Burden's Edge (Fury of a Rising Dragon Book 1) Read online

  “Yes, Father. Gods help me, you sound just like Bridget. Oh, and now you’re defending Cry of all people? So let me get this straight. Fry Himself, the same kid who slandered your good name in the Herald, is to be accorded the respect of his full and proper name. Get the hell out of my way.” Brandon stormed past.

  “Where are you going?” Augum asked.

  Brandon stopped at the door. “I was going to declare with you, you know. You can be so damn self-centered sometimes. And … and I’m sick of you three always eclipsing me. Whenever new people come by, it’s always the trio this and the trio that. Bridget gets ten times the attention I do. It’s like I don’t even exist. It makes me feel … it makes me feel like less of a man.” He slowly shook his head. “I’m a shadow around you three. A lowly, good-for-nothing, gutterborn shadow.” He gave a mocking bow that made him fiercely wince from the pain. “Your Highness.” Then he slammed the door behind him.

  The War Pit

  Arcane Army Combat class was held in what was affectionately dubbed the War Pit—an enormous underground cavern filled with obstacles you’d find on the battlefield, such as woods, hills, swamps, ravines, and fields. There were also castle ruins, walls, ditches, and even crude pit traps.

  Created by a master earth warlock early in the academy’s history, the War Pit was accessed by a portal in the Elements Wing. One rumor claimed it was deep below the academy, while another had it located under the sweltering deserts of the Kingdom of Sierra, thousands of leagues to the south. But since the permanent portal that went straight to the academy was the only way in or out, there was no way to tell.

  A throng of people milled about amongst a field of wheat in the center of the cavern known as the “Center Bore.” It was the spot mock armies met at for face-to-face combat. The cavern was arcanely set to sunset in the thick of summer, complete with diffused light coming from ancient iron-bound lanterns strung throughout the ceiling and walls, providing a staggered sunset glow effect. The cavern was stuffy and hot, and the air smelled of rotten oak, mineral earth, wildflowers and wood smoke. A stream trickled nearby. But there were no animal or insect sounds, not even the tweet of a bird, and the forest and fields were kept alive through unknown arcane means.

  Augum strode up to The Grizzly before class began. “May I have a word, Lord High Commander?”

  The Grizzly gave a slight nod without looking up from a lesson scroll he was poring over.

  Augum kept his voice low. “You requested I keep you informed on the assassin situation, sir.”

  “Mmm.”

  “We have stumbled across their names.”

  The Grizzly glanced up. Augum then gave him a short rundown of what he had learned.

  “And we believe the trio of assassins may be part of a guild,” he concluded.

  “Assassins getting work from a guild,” The Grizzly said dryly. “Who would have ever thought such a thing were possible …”

  Augum felt a flush of embarrassment. He had told the man something blatantly obvious. “But their names, sir—”

  “Assassins commonly go by nicknames or field names.” He gave an amused grunt. “All right, Stone, I will have someone look into the matter for you.”

  By the man’s tone, Augum could tell it would be at his leisure. He contemplated bringing Laudine over to regurgitate the poem, but abandoned the idea when he envisioned the amused look on The Grizzly’s face.

  “Will that be all, Stone?”

  Augum hesitated. There was a lot on his mind he’d like to tell The Grizzly, namely some theories about who could have possibly hired the assassins, but he wasn’t sure how to get the words out in a way that wouldn’t earn him a cynical grunt. “Yes, sir,” he said instead. “Thank you, sir.”

  The Grizzly rolled up the scroll and glanced beyond Augum. “Hu-ten-tion!”

  The class lined up as usual from tallest to shortest. The Lord High Commander then lectured them on the distinctions between open field warfare versus forest warfare, and how they differed in application for warlocks as opposed to Ordinaries. Today’s lesson was particularly special and rare as it was a practical one, meaning they would have the chance to apply what they had learned thus far. The lesson was also a surprise, for the students had been expecting to be studying field warfare inside the Lecture Wing, as was usually the case, only to find themselves led here.

  It was also a rather sophisticated gathering for a mock battle. Behind the students stood several groups of people, beginning with a line of twenty 1st degree academy warlocks who would serve as warlock troops. This would be their initiation into arcane combat, and many had ashen faces. One of them was Gretchen, who waved at Augum as he glanced her way. Behind the 1st degree students stood ten Ordinary men-at-arms and ten Ordinary archers from Solia’s army, brought in by the Lord High Commander. They consisted of equal numbers of men and women. Beside them stood eight battlefield healers plucked straight from their classes, two of whom were known to Augum: Jengo and Kiwi.

  Augum was having a hard time concentrating on The Grizzly’s words because of everything that had happened over the last while. He sincerely hoped he’d play a minor role in today’s exercise, whatever it was. And because of the drama at lunch, he hadn’t even had time to study Brandon’s notes on flanking.

  Thinking of Brandon, Augum glanced down the line, past Katrina on his left, and saw he was looking miserable. His jaw was set as if in pain or internal turmoil, and his perpetually lopsided grin was noticeably absent. He stared past the patrolling Grizzly as if in deep rumination over what had occurred. Had he really been that resentful of their fame this entire time? As the class jester, Brandon loved attention, but Augum hadn’t realized how dark and cold their shadow could be. The more he thought about it, though, the more he realized some of the things Brandon had said were indeed true. Girls would flock to Augum to ask him about the war or get his autograph, or they would just gaze at him dreamily while completely ignoring Brandon. And Bridget, though reserved and humble, was nonetheless constantly courted by boys who wanted to snag her away from Brandon. Some of the older boys even muttered that he was far beneath her. But Brandon should have known those things annoyed Augum and the girls. And he should have known they downplayed that stupid fame stuff as much as they could. And he certainly should have known they treated him as equal, never putting themselves above him.

  “Eyes on me, Stone,” The Grizzly barked.

  “Yes, Lord High Commander, sir!” Augum shouted. He wanted to show everyone he would not let that morning’s whipping or Cry’s piece in the Herald break his spirit.

  “You should be paying particular attention, Stone, seeing as you are one of today’s commanders.”

  “Yes, Lord High Commander, sir!” Augum said as his stomach dropped. Shoot, why him? There could not possibly be a worse day to play commander on a mock battlefield.

  The Grizzly stood before Augum in his black arcanist robe, hands behind his back. “I chose you because I want your opponent to face someone who has had real command experience in a real battle to the death.”

  “Understood, Lord High Commander, sir.” Augum knew who The Grizzly was referring to.

  “Southguard, Eric. Present yourself.”

  “Yes, Lord High Commander, sir!” Eric took a few military strides forward to stand beside The Grizzly. Then he turned on his heel to face the gathered mock army.

  “Stone, Augum. Present yourself.”

  “Yes, Lord High Commander, sir!” Augum gingerly strode forward, for he had to be mindful of his sutures. He should have had the bandages changed at lunch, but with everything going on, it had slipped his mind. His movements caused a small titter among some of the 1st degrees. But as soon as his eyes swept their ranks, they quieted.

  “Two worthy commanders stand before you,” The Grizzly boomed. “One is in pain from nine lashes he received before the entire academy on this morn, while the other suffers from a lack of field experience. Therefore, I would call the odds even.”

&n
bsp; The crowd chortled.

  “This is not a matter of fickle entertainment!” the Lord High Commander roared so harshly that the 1st degrees startled, some with yelps. The rest instantly fell silent. “Our army is made of bones and ashes! It is rooms full of empty suits of armor waiting to be filled with the bodies of men and women willing to put their lives on the line for their kingdom and for their liege!”

  The Grizzly raised a single finger. “The Canterrans are a real and present threat. You are warlocks. Your primary traditional purpose has and always will be war. Do not let classes like Warlock Occupations or Culture Studies or any of the other froufrou classes ever lead you astray on that matter!”

  “Yes, Lord High Commander, sir!” Augum’s 7th degree class shouted. Behind them, the 1st degrees stirred uneasily.

  The Grizzly began pacing again, his great frame throwing shadows over those standing before him, his fierce eyes making throats constrict and bodies stiffen.

  “Although you may weasel away from your traditional responsibilities by hiding behind professions like ice maker, lamplighter, digger, and other trivial arcane occupations, when an army is about to crush the skulls of your family and neighbors, it is you those people will look at to save them.”

  He stopped to glare at each pupil in turn. “7th degree warlocks are expected to feel comfortable on the field of battle. In the old days, you would have bled many times already in real duels and real battles. But you are soft and squishy pillows living in soft and squishy times. And you are unaccustomed to true war.”

  Augum, recalling some harrowing moments while fighting the undead, begged to differ.

  “Some of you have been lucky enough to defeat sacks of rotten meat.” The Grizzly’s eyes snapped to Augum, Bridget and Leera before moving on. “For the rest of you, the scent of war is as unfamiliar as a good scolding.” He sighed as he glanced down at his thumb and forefinger, which he rubbed together. “Ordinaries may greatly outnumber warlocks in our northern kingdom, but together with our fellow citizens—soldiers, archers and cavalry—we have the potential to form a competent army.” He glanced up at them. “The future of the kingdom’s security is in your hands.” Then he raised a finger and spoke deliberately. “But mark my words, should you face an enemy like the Canterran army, you will find them more cunning, better trained, and formidable beyond your wildest fears. Never underestimate your enemy. That is why you must work hard at working together and using the resources you have.”

  The man swiveled to Augum. “Until we have proof that these scions still exist, we must assume that we are on our own.”

  Augum couldn’t help his brows from rising. Did The Grizzly just defend the trio?

  “We must assume the Canterran threat is real, that their provocations are tests of our character, and that their knowledge of our defenses is vast and accurate. Do not take my words lightly.”

  The lines of students and soldiers rustled. The Grizzly’s tone made the hairs on Augum’s arms rise. Even though this was a war game, the Lord High Commander evidently had his mind set on what lay beyond …

  “All right. Let us begin, for we have less than two hours to declare a winner. Commander Southguard, choose a captain who will command your fellow 7th degree warlocks.”

  “Yes, Lord High Commander, sir! I choose my cousin, Katrina Southguard.”

  The corner of Katrina’s mouth curled in a smile as she strode to stand beside Eric.

  “Chosen without hesitation,” The Grizzly noted. “But spare my title for the moment and let us hurry this along. Commander Stone. A captain who will command your fellow classmates.”

  Augum squared his jaw. This was a tough call. There were many worthy candidates. He needed someone who was practical, sharp and levelheaded. And he didn’t want Bridget and Leera playing on the opposing team.

  “I choose Bridget Burns as my captain,” Augum said, nodding confidently at her as she strode to stand at his side. He winked at Leera, who looked a bit put off. He had a plan for her too. And although Bridget was upset with Brandon, he knew she was more than capable of thinking clearly even during the most harrowing times, as she had proved on countless occasions in the war. He would take no one else onto the field of battle over the girls, ever.

  “A fellow Hero of the Resistance. Very good. Southguard, a captain to command the king’s archers, please.”

  “Isaac Fleiszmann.”

  The red-haired eccentric rambler strode over, shoulders swaggering.

  Augum had expected that choice, and it was for the best. Isaac was a good friend and might gain insight on the Southguards.

  “Stone. A captain to command the king’s archers.”

  “Caireen Lavo.”

  “A former Antioc Warlock Tournament champion,” The Grizzly said as the wild-haired Tiberran stepped beside Bridget and crossed her arms. “Another wise choice.”

  Now Augum felt his nerves stir as he really didn’t want the Southguards picking Leera; he badly wanted her to lead his infantry.

  “A captain to lead the king’s infantry, Southguard.”

  “I choose …”

  Katrina whispered into his ear.

  “I choose Brandon Summers.”

  Bridget did a double take as Brandon confidently strode to stand beside Isaac. He gave Katrina a nod of thanks and refused to look at Bridget or Augum.

  “Snake,” Bridget hissed under her breath, though whether she was referring to Katrina, Eric, or Brandon was anyone’s guess.

  “And now an infantry captain from you, Stone—”

  “Leera Jones.”

  “No surprise there,” The Grizzly said as Leera gave a small fist pump and joined Augum’s team.

  The Lord High Commander raised his thick brow at Eric. “Do you think your father would have chosen as you have, Young Southguard?”

  “That is difficult to say, Lord High Commander. My father is perhaps more calculating than I am.”

  “Quite a political answer, Southguard. I will be under your father’s direct command in mere hours. Are you aware he asked me to conduct this exercise with you in command?”

  For the first time, Augum saw a hint of nervousness in Eric. It showed in the form of a small swallow and the rise of his chin.

  “I was not, Lord High Commander.”

  “Lord Southguard has asked me to pass on to him a report of this battle, and he has told me to spare no detail of your performance.”

  A bit of color left Eric’s chiseled features. “Understood, Lord High Commander.”

  Augum thought that sounded ominous for Eric. He had found Eric’s father demanding and pompous, and suspected he had very high expectations for his only son—now heir to the throne of Solia.

  The choices from there went quickly. Eric chose Elizabeth Beaumont the Third as his captain of the 1st degree warlock squad, and Augum chose Laudine for his. After that, they took turns choosing the rest of the students who would serve under Bridget and Katrina as warlock troops. Although Eric snapped up Cry, who Augum had been hoping to snag so he could talk to him, Eric got stuck with Carp. He stood awkwardly close to Elizabeth, as he was one of those people who loved invading personal space. She gave him a repulsed look and edged away. The Grizzly then randomly assigned healers to each army. Augum lucked out by getting Jengo and Kiwi along with two others.

  The Lord High Commander stood rigidly straight as his booming voice took on the tone of a drill sergeant. “You knew the risks upon signing up for this elective. This is mock warfare. The arrows are blunt and the swords wooden. They have been enchanted to release a powder upon your person that will indicate a hit. You may get hurt. You may bleed. You may pass out. You may even get killed—it has happened before. I would like to think, however, that you have the rudimentary cunning to avoid dying in mock warfare.”

  There was a nervous chortle from the crowd.

  He indicated a small keep in the distance, on top of which flew a blue flag. “Stone, that will be your headquarters.” He pointed the oppos
ite way to an identical keep with a red flag. “Southguard, that will be yours.”

  He paced before the armies, speaking rapidly. “Your sole objective is to capture the flag from your opponent’s keep with any legal means at your disposal and to bring that flag here to the Center Bore. Opponents may stop the possessor of the flag, but they are not permitted to touch the flag itself. Bringing the flag to me will sound a siren, indicating victory. Are we clear?”

  “Yes, Lord High Commander, sir!” they shouted in unison.

  “Good. Now let us go over the rules of mock warfare. For this session and this session only, the standard Pupil Code of Conduct will be suspended, as per Academy War Training Dictum seventy-seven. That means you may cast spells against enemy pupils. It also means you may get physical.” He wagged a finger as students muttered excitedly. “But you are prohibited to purposely inflict life-ending injuries. In addition, the use of Elemental Armor is strictly forbidden.”

  There were more than a few groans which The Grizzly silenced with a black look.

  “The rules have been structured to mimic true combat conditions as realistically as possible, and you will obey them. Any injuries sustained must immediately be reported to a healer of any side. If you feel the person is seriously injured, you must stay with them until a healer arrives. A combatant must bend the knee after suffering a physical hit of any kind, except for telekinetic shoves and yanks and nonphysical arcane attacks. The honor system is at play here, so I expect absolute obedience on this front. You will not dishonor me, you will not dishonor the academy, and you will not dishonor yourselves. Am I understood?”

  “Yes, Lord High Commander, sir!”

  “A combatant may also yield willingly by bending the knee and staying on the field of battle, acting as a casualty. That person may not speak, gesture, or help in any way until the end of combat. Each unit will have one healer, who will also act as a judge. Their word is final on the field of battle. Does everyone understand all the rules?”

  “Yes, Lord High Commander, sir!”