Honor Crowned by Michael G. Southwick Read Free Book Online Page B

mage.  A mage would just wipe these vermin clean out of the land.”
    The old man’s chin was jutted out in defiance.  The man’s statement was one Jorem had heard before.  A little bit of magic would solve all the problems in the world.  It was also a subject on which he had been lectured by his friend and mentor, Pentrothe.  “Mages don’t grow on trees, and magic extracts a price of its own,” the old wizard had said during one of their many conversations.
    “What you say is true.”  Jorem spoke loudly to be sure all in the room could hear what he had to say.  “An extremely powerful mage likely could do what you say.  Unfortunately, we don’t have one of those at hand.”
    As he spoke, the sword shaped amulet hanging from a chain around his neck seemed to warm against his chest.  A gift from the most powerful mage he knew, Lady Dragon Mage Zensa.  A gift from her should he ever find himself in dire need.  A gift he’d only used once before, to save another. 
    True, he could break the amulet and she would come.  She would save him, and perhaps one or two others if she felt it did not violate her vows.  Dragon Mages had their own ideas of what was right and wrong.  They answered to no one other than their sworn liege Dragon.
    “Why aren’t the Dragon Mages taking care of this matter like they used to?” asked another.
    Jorem let the grumbling continue for a while before holding up his hand for silence.  “Many of you recall wars in which the Dragon Mages took part.  I fear that was before my time.  I know of the Dragon Mages.  In fact, I’m acquainted with one of them.”  Jorem paused to let that sink in.  To be associated with a Dragon Mage was rare indeed.
    “In all the wars you recall or have heard of, have any of you ever heard of a Dragon Mage taking part in a war other than one of magic?”
    Another pause, accompanied with much whispering.
    “No!?”  Jorem stated more than asked.  “Because they don’t get involved in the politics and ruling of humans.  Ever!  They are not our keepers, nor do they wish to be.  We have to do this ourselves.  We will do this, and we will survive!”
    An unexpected cheer rose from those around the room.  Jorem wasn’t sure what they were cheering about. The next sevenday might find them all dead.  He let them cheer anyway.  Every bit of enthusiasm was going to be needed over the next few days.
    “Bring any weapons you can find here to the dining hall.  Take any carts, buckets, shovels, and spades to the courtyard.  Then get some sleep.  We’ve some hard work in the coming days.”
    As the crowd began shuffling out the door, Jorem noticed someone standing by the map they’d hung on the wall—someone he didn’t recognize.  He looked to be a young man, but the King’s men had taken all of them.  As Jorem watched, the young man erased some of the lines Jorem had drawn and drew in new ones.
    Curious as to the man’s motives, Jorem walked over.  A closer look at the man raised a few more questions in Jorem’s mind.  Though he was not quite as tall as Jorem, he was easily as broad.  His features looked slightly swollen, and his light sandy hair had begun to thin.
    “Excuse me,” Jorem said politely.  “Is there a reason you’re changing the map?”
    It wasn’t like the man ignored Jorem, but more like he didn’t even notice Jorem was there.  He continued to stare intently at the map, then erased another line and drew it elsewhere.  Then he returned to staring at the map.  Thinking maybe the man was too engrossed in his task to notice anything, Jorem reached out and tapped him on the shoulder.
    The man slowly turned toward Jorem.  The look in his eyes seemed a little out of focus, as if he were looking through Jorem instead of at him.  Just as Jorem was about to repeat his question, an elderly woman came bustling up.
    “Cort!” she exclaimed.  “What are you doing in here?”  She turned to Jorem. “Please