at Master Glim. It had the look of a Moving spell and Samuel met it with a counter spell of his own. Just then, a battle cry sounded beside him and a man appeared from the bushes, swinging his sword towards Samuel with all his might. Samuel cried out and tried to pull his horse aside, but there was no time. He swung his leg right out of the stirrup as the man’s weapon struck. Samuel’s horse screamed as the weapon bit into it and the animal threw him from the saddle.
Samuel toppled head over heels and crashed into the prickly bushes. His instincts had him back on his feet and running blindly as more cries sounded behind. The others had already sped past on their horses, but Samuel had to carry himself on his own two legs as the sounds of pursuit dogged him. Looking over his shoulder, he caught sight of a number of men all pushing through the branches after him. It was then that his next footfall met nothing, and Samuel slipped down an embankment, tumbling through the air and rolling down a muddy slope.
‘After him!’ came cries from behind and men began treading down after him, being careful not to slip down the sides, which had been made treacherous by the rain.
Samuel was on his feet and off again, following the narrow gully as fast as he could go. The sides were rocky and steep, so he continued running along it, hoping to find somewhere he could climb out and lose his pursuers. His thoughts turned to his magic, but he was so fatigued from riding and running that he could barely feel a hint of magic inside himself. He ran until, exhausted, he bent over with his hands on his knees and struggled to regain his breath, stumbling the last few steps. He looked back and could hear the men’s shouts nearing, their armour clanking as they ran after him through the rain.
He had a pain in his side, but he forced himself to stand upright as the men came into view. They slowed to a walk on sight of the magician waiting before them. Despite their numbers, they were facing a member of the Order, and Samuel’s black clothes gave them reason enough to be tentative. One man nodded for some of the others to move in, and they began to creep towards Samuel with their swords held forward.
Samuel eyed the sides of the gully, but they looked too difficult to climb. The men would be at his back before he had time to even scale part way. Instead, he closed his eyes and forced his shallow breaths to become longer and deeper. He could feel magic far away, lingering beyond his reach and he beckoned for it to come nearer. He could feel the soldiers nearing, but he tried to ignore them as he concentrated on tapping the
Calming his mind, he called again and he was overjoyed as he felt a sudden tug in the pattern towards him- he had it. Magic slowly came creeping in, ever so slowly at first, but growing steadily, more and more. With each heartbeat, his reserves of power increased. Time was what magicians needed most. These soldiers, wary of the lone magician, had given Samuel exactly what he needed to defeat them. When he opened his eyes once again there was a smile on his lips.
The men came at him through the rain. Samuel had not yet decided on any particular spell to use against them, but as the closest man broke ranks and came running forth, magic sprang from Samuel before he knew it. The soldier flew from his feet and sailed clear past his fellows to land skidding along the gully floor behind the others. The others stopped and looked to their comrade with wide eyes as the soldier groaned and unsteadily regained his feet.
Samuel’s smile grew wider as he felt more and more power filling inside him. It was growing greater within him now, swelling to such proportions that he felt he could do anything. The pain in his side and the yearning in his lungs vanished as he took a step towards the armed men.
‘Kill the magician!’ one soldier cried out and they all came charging forward. The first two men were nearer than the others, barely an arm’s length away, when Samuel grabbed them each in turn and sent them flying back, crashing onto the others. The remaining soldiers cried out defiantly as they continued forward with their swords aimed towards him. Just defending against these soldiers was not enough. They would need to be dealt with quickly and finally. And now he had pushed them all to a safe distance, he had gained the space he needed.
Samuel spread his hands wide as he pushed his magic out into the earth. He grasped the rain-sodden, gully walls and, with a sudden surge of power, Samuel brought his arms together. The dark, rocky earth on both sides exploded free and fell in upon the men like great waves crashing down. They only had time to scream and raise their hands to their faces before they were all slammed down and buried beneath the tons of damp earth and stone.
Samuel laughed at the sight, for his magic and fatigue had left him somewhat light-headed. He thought about climbing out of the depression he had made, for roots and stone that he could use as hand-holds stuck out from the earth, but the soil looked unsteady and dangerous. Instead, he turned and continued trotting unsteadily along the gully.
A flash of light gave him a moment’s notice, and Samuel had a spell shield in place as a stream of magic came flying down from the gully top.
‘He’s over there!’ came a distant shout.
Samuel continued on, eyeing the gully sides for any further sign of attack. Ahead, the gully flattened out. A large puddle had formed there and Samuel came splashing out into a large stony quarry. Galloping down on his left came a dozen armoured riders with Captain Garret on a great beast of a horse at the lead and two mounted magicians following at their rear. They spread out before Samuel and their horses snorted and stamped impatiently.
‘Well, it looks as though we’ve caught at least one of your miscreants,’ Captain Garret announced.
‘You should go on ahead after the others, Captain,’ one of the magicians responded. ‘We can take care of this one. He has no power to speak of.’
Garret nodded and was about to turn his horse to leave when Samuel shouted up at him.
‘Don’t think you can be rid of me so easily!’ he called out. The rain felt like ice upon his cheeks.
The grey-bearded captain bared his teeth and smiled. ‘Very well, Magician. Have it your way. We’ll kill you quickly and then be off together. The other traitors will all be rounded up eventually, whether they make it past me or not.’
‘Traitors?’ Samuel responded. ‘It seems you’ve been misled, Captain. No matter. Very well, come kill me if you can.’ His magic was still dancing on his skin, crackling in his skull and tickling behind his eyes.
‘Let me,’ the second magician said. ‘I’ll give it to the Outlander for thinking he can match our Turian blood.’ He was bald-headed, and bore a small, pointed beard. Samuel disliked him immediately.
‘I’d wager you are a true Turian,’ Samuel called to the man.
‘Why is that?’ the bald magician responded, as he climbed down from his horse.
‘Because you are all the same: arrogant, self-righteous and bigoted. You deserve to lose your precious Empire.’
The bald man laughed. ‘And I haven’t met an Outlander like you who didn’t deserve to be crushed.’
The magician called upon his power. He seemed quite strong, but he was not nearly powerful enough. Samuel’s head was light, but he knew he could not lose. He was about to say something clever and demeaning to the man, when a hint of magic at the corner of his eye caught his attention. He dived aside as a great boulder, the size of a wagon, crashed down beside him with a massive boom that shook the earth.
‘Is that it?’ Samuel said with a grin as he scraped the mud from his thighs. Dark shadows had crept into the auras of all the men before him-dark and jagged and insistent. ‘A spell of Lifting? What a clumsy effort. Where is the elegance? Did you not pay attention to your studies? Why waste so much power, when the same effort invested into something smaller can be so much more effective?’
Samuel flicked his wrist and a swarm of pebbles flew up from the ground and struck the bald magician like a volley of arrows. Blood flew from the man’s surprised face as the stones passed through him and punched vital fluids out his other side. Garret and his men all cried out with surprise and fear and their horses leapt and kicked. The bald magician toppled over and splashed face down into the puddle at his feet, turning it crimson around him.
Samuel laughed again, but a sudden pain in his throat had him choking. He dropped to his knees, clutching at his neck. A spell had him caught tight and he had failed altogether to notice it forming. If he had not been so busy choking, he would have damned himself for not concentrating more closely on his opponents. With magic singing in his head and being almost delirious from fatigue, focussing his thoughts was proving quite difficult.
