Journeymage: Book Six Of The Spellmonger Series by Terry Mancour

Author:Terry Mancour [Mancour, Terry]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Published: 2015-03-16T11:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

An Audience With The King

After humiliating Lady Mask by defeating her on the field, stealing her source of power, and burning down her castle, you might think the goblins would have left us alone for a while after we left Rognar Tower. But their fell riders dogged our shadows for days, always staying under just enough cover to keep them from getting plucked into the sky by a giant hawk.

We were moving into what had been one of the more densely populated regions of the Alshari Wilderlands, a string of fertile valleys and wooded ridges, the kind of landscape that encouraged more communal farming along the river valleys than the isolated freeholds further north. Four years ago this had been what passed for an agricultural heartland of this rugged region. Now every hamlet we passed was deserted, every village burned, every rustic manor or humble shrine abandoned.

Yet as we passed, the few human folk who lingered on the fringes of their ruined lives came out to see the spectacle, despite the danger. The sight of the proud Kasari children, marching under their banners, their cloaks flung back in the warmth of the sun, and singing, always singing, as the giant hawks circled overhead. It must have seemed like a military parade, or some bizarre pageant to these Wilderlands peasants. But they came out as we passed by, to watch the sight . . . and to join us.

We didn’t invite them, exactly. But those who realized that the last troop was passing them by often found their feet following, for lack of a better direction in life. The children in the wasteland, in particular, found some security in so many other children well-fed and free, and they wanted a part of that. More, they wanted to be part of that, not just recipients but participants. Every day another dozen, another score would find their way to the camp at night. The aroma of our magic cauldrons lured them, at first, but the fellowship and friendliness of the Kasari made them feel welcome.

I don’t know what we’re going to do, Min, Rael the Enchantress complained. I’ve got more than a hundred new kids to feed, and two score of adults. Most can barely keep up with us, they’re so starved. But the rations just aren’t holding. We ran short. I’ve notified Gareth, and he’s trying to compensate, but it’s getting to be a problem.

I know, I know, I agreed. Yours isn’t the only troop getting extra mouths to feed. It’s like they’re growing on trees, or something, and we’re happening along just in time to harvest them.

Supply issues aside, the fascinating thing is how more quickly the kids are adapting than the adult refugees. The adults just want to march and eat. The children are mimicking the Kasari kids, even learning their songs and such. A bunch of refugee kids even made their own patrol banner.

The adults already have their opinions about the Kasari, I pointed out. Out here, they’re not trusted by most Narasi.

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