Rogue Mage: Age Of Magic - A Kurtherian Gambit Series (Path of Heroes Book 1) Read online

  CONTENTS

  Dedication

  Legal

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Author Notes - Brandon

  Author Notes - Michael Anderle

  Social Links

  Books by Brandon

  Series List

  DEDICATION

  From Brandon

  To my dazzling, wonderful wife. You make life fun!

  And to Dominic Dunsmore, Susan Ingalls, Brian Linton, and Tim Elliott,

  ...this story is right up your alley.

  From Michael

  To Family, Friends and

  Those Who Love

  To Read.

  May We All Enjoy Grace

  To Live The Life We Are

  Called.

  ROGUE MAGE

  Beta Editor / Readers

  Belinda Tran

  Ruth Badgramslayer

  Astrid Rudloff

  Joanne Hampton

  Kassandra Escobedo

  Aimee Walnofer

  George Christison

  Amanda Barr

  JIT Readers

  Alex Wilson

  Joshua Ahles

  Kimberly Boyer

  Micky Cocker

  Kelly ODonnell

  James Caplan

  Peter Manis

  Paul Westman

  Thomas Ogden

  If Iwe missed anyone, please let us know!

  ROGUE MAGE (this book) is a work of fiction.

  All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Sometimes both.

  This book Copyright © 2017 Brandon Barr, Michael T. Anderle, CM Raymond, LE Barbant

  Cover Design by Damonza https://damonza.com/

  Cover copyright © LMBPN Publishing

  LMBPN Publishing supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.

  The distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

  LMBPN Publishing

  PMB 196, 2540 South Maryland Pkwy

  Las Vegas, NV 89109

  First US edition, August 2017

  The Kurtherian Gambit (and what happens within / characters / situations / worlds) are copyright © 2017 by Michael T. Anderle.

  PROLOGUE

  The future is not what we expected.

  After our greatest heroes left Earth to carry their justice to the stars, war broke out between those who remained behind. Eventually, the alien technology that once enhanced a select few began to change, infecting the blood of all humans, bringing about an Age of Madness.

  But that mutation allowed the survivors to access powers beyond their imaginations...

  As society began to rebuild, those who could tame the powers within started calling it by another name.

  Magic.

  Years passed, and the true history of our world turned to legend. Strange societies formed, each with their own myths and methods to control the power.

  But new abilities have led to new evil... and the need for new heroes.

  Welcome to the Age of Magic.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Perched on a slender branch, Payetta watched the cloaked men through the eyes of a sparrow. Her human form knelt far away, safely out of range of the three men winding their way through her woods. Each had a sword in its sheath with a second weapon in hand. The first two carried a bow with an arrow fitted to fly and the last twirled a knife playfully as he walked.

  The sparrow had served its purpose, and Payetta released it, thanking it for allowing her control.

  Then she opened her eyes.

  Justen’s eager look was waiting for her. “How many this time?”

  “Three,” replied Payetta, excitement ringing in her voice. “Two bowmen, and the third looks good with a knife.”

  Justen nodded.

  “It’s a pity they interrupted our picnic,” sang Payetta. An eager smirk twisted her lips as she glanced around the old ruins where she and her husband had been eating lunch. A shank of venison lay half eaten on the remains of a blackened stone hearth that stood at the center of the ancient structure.

  Resting nearby was their skunk, She Grunts, licking herself under an armpit as she was fond of doing.

  “Come on, hotass,” grinned Payetta. “Let’s go say hello to Titannus’s men.” She stretched out her hands to Justen and he pulled her up from the mossy stone floor.

  Justen frowned, his brow raised in a pensive arch. “You’re going to keep to the plan, right? No wooden sword.”

  Payetta gave her husband a teasing scowl. “You and your plan. Come on, sweetie, let me use my favorite weapon.”

  Justen shook his head, refusing to give in. “Do I have to remind you that last time one of Titannus’s men almost got away with your secret?” A little smile cracked her husband’s lips, then he added, “Kind of hard to keep your magic hidden when you’re chopping off limbs with a blue, blazing piece of wood.”

  ‘I’ll make you a deal,” replied Payetta. “I’ll promise not to use my wooden sword…only if you promise to use yours tonight. Wooden sword, magic, and all.”

  “You drive an easy bargain.” He laughed lightly and winked. “It’s a deal.”

  Payetta followed close behind him as he led her through the woods. The thrill of finally hunting down bad men felt like a cold blast of air—invigorating her sense of purpose. It had been six months since the last time they brought down any of Titannus’s raiders, and she was feeling too at ease of late, and had almost let these three intruders slip by.

  Justen wove around a thicket of bushes, following an animal trail. The trees grew thicker and the sunlight dimmed as they entered a stand of aspens.

  Payetta glanced behind her and saw She Grunts skittering along behind.

  “Hold on,” Payetta called softly. “Let me track them again.”

  She put her hand to the ground and closed her eyes. Her mind absorbed her surroundings through living things, like a blank canvas soaking in the colors of the room, only the colors were trees and plants, insects and animals. She’d developed this skill two years ago at sixteen and it had been growing stronger ever since.

  Now she pushed her focus in the
direction the men had been walking and her Eartheye coned out in obedience, stretching further south, but shrinking in all other directions.

  She felt the men’s footfalls again. Heavy, tromping steps that sent vibrations through the roots of trees and made little insects scurry for shelter.

  Payetta released her grip on the forest and stood and found Justen’s eyes. “They’re moving fast, toward the edge of the woods. Let’s pick up our pace.”

  She turned and clapped her hands at She Grunts. The skunk trotted over, and Payetta scooped her up and tucked her under one arm.

  They ran without care of making noise, thrashing through brush and splashing through puddles left from yesterday’s rain.

  When they neared the edge of the woods, Justen slowed.

  Payetta closed her eyes and the ground beneath her feet soaked in her consciousness.

  The men were near. She found an animal suitable for her. A brown-furred hare that looked out from its burrow at the three raiders.

  They had stopped and were talking to themselves as they peered over the enormous swath of land that was South Meadow. Fields of lettuces, potatoes, squash, and tomatoes were interspersed with farm cottages and rows of apple and cherry trees.

  She sent the hare dashing out of its hole and the sound startled the three. Neither of the two bowmen tried their luck with the swift animal as it darted past them.

  She released the hare and attempted to enter a much nastier animal that was deep in its den, contentedly licking the last morsels from a bird egg. It was a large, red-tailed badger, and it was certain to be a challenge, as were all predatory animals.

  The fight with this particular badger’s will was like a mental sparring match of fists versus claws and teeth.

  “What’s happening?” she heard Justen ask, his voice barely audible as only a trace of her conscious mind remained there beside him in her body. She didn’t have the energy to answer back, or she’d lose her battle with the sizeable beast.

  The badger’s fury began to subside, and its breathing eased as she gained control.

  She shifted some of her energy back into her body. “They’re just beyond that berm,” she said, pointing at a small rise dotted with trees.

  “What kind of animal did you get?”

  “A creature to fit my temperament.”

  “Did you find a mule out in the woods?”

  She glanced over at him. “A badger, you jackass.”

  “All right,” he laughed. “Like last time, they won’t know what hit them.”

  Justen raced away and Payetta refocused nearly all of her awareness to the badger. She never abandoned her body completely.

  One day, she promised herself, she would try it.

  She stalked out of her den and sniffed irritably at the scent of the three men, then scurried toward them. As she drew near, she tried to walk a silent path, maneuvering between fallen trees and following a trail made by the wild dogs. As she neared, she heard the raiders talking.

  “I want one of the farms with fruit,” said a man with a jutting chin that looked like a buttocks. “Vegetables give me the runs.”

  “Stupid,” growled another, whose greasy face was covered in stubble. “The wild boar gave you the runs. Either that, or those mushrooms you ate made you think you had the runs.”

  “Magical runs,” laughed a third man who looked to be the biggest and strongest of them all. He was one of the bowmen, but the longsword strapped to his back didn’t escape her notice. He was the one she wanted.

  Payetta could smell Justen in the distance now, and with a careful search to the northeast of the men, she spotted him creeping within arrow range beside a tangle of aspens.

  “I gotta take a piss,” said the big man, setting down his bow and arrow. He turned and walked in her direction. He came up right to where she hid in a bush, pulled the front of his trousers down and whipped his manhood out.

  Her badger eyes narrowed. That bastard was going to pee on her.

  She bared her teeth in a grin. It wasn’t often opportunity came right up and knocked on her door, but whenever it did, she was happy to answer.

  Payetta sprang out for the one thing that could bring the man down in an instant. She couldn’t help herself. He’d stuck it out like a dangling carrot.

  The man’s high pitched scream tore the air.

  Payetta shook her snout viciously, her foreclaws hooked into the man’s thighs for a solid hold. With one last violent shake of her head, she sprang away before his fist or sword could find her.

  The stubble-faced man and the one with the buttocks for a chin had turned toward the screams of their friend, but stood frozen with terror.

  Whether their shock came from the blood staining her snout, or the fact that their friend had been partially castrated before their eyes, she didn’t know, but the look in their eyes told her she’d done her job well.

  The stubbly-faced man’s body lurched forward suddenly, an arrowhead protruding through his leathers. The man collapsed to the ground without a word, shot through the heart.

  Butt-Chin turned, knife in hand as Justen came running out of the woods with his sword.

  Payetta was about to attack and aid her husband when suddenly her body—her human body—felt strong hands seize her shoulders and throw her down on her back.

  Disoriented, she abandoned the badger and opened her eyes. Two men stood over her, one grinning like he’d just found a nice toy to play with, the other looking out at the woods, his jaw tight with concern.

  Two more raiders? How had she missed them?

  “Hello, pretty,” growled the man leering over her, his fingers clenched tight around her wrists. “Never met a girl with a pet skunk before. You’re not a Meadlowlander, are you?”

  Payetta frowned. “Where’s my pet?”

  “Ran off. Left you all alone. Now tell me, where are you from?”

  The dull ring of swords clanked in the distance. The man who stood staring off into the woods swore. “Kill her,” he commanded. “The others have trouble.”

  Payetta didn’t wait for a response from her would-be-murderer. She grabbed him by his shirt and yanked down, driving her forehead into his nose. It made a soft crunch on impact.

  He tried to hold on but he didn’t expect her strength when she bucked her body then drove her knee up into his side and cracked a rib. The man fell off her like a limp fish, collapsing in a heap on the ground.

  The other man’s sword came slashing at her. She rolled away, barely avoiding the blade.

  Springing to her feet, she took out her carved, wooden sword. What Justen didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. Besides, it was lighter and she was faster with it.

  And in her hands, it was magic. Her eyes glowed blue, and the energy within her flooded through the wooden shaft, lighting it in a fiery azure blaze.

  Payetta’s opponent squinted at the sight of it. “Get up!” he shouted to his friend on the ground. “Help me with her—she’s some kind of mage!”

  Payetta reached out with a portion of her mind, keeping her eyes on the man’s sword. Immediately she found her skunk, She Grunts, hiding in a hollow log nearby.

  Pets required much less attention than badgers and needed little or no guidance once she told them what she wanted.

  “Tell me,” asked Payetta, “did Titannus send you to South Meadow to pillage a farm or are you here to drag women away to your filthy mountain fortress?”

  “Neither,” came the man’s humorless voice. He took a step towards her, sword poised. The clash of blades continued to ring in the distance. She was confident Justen could handle himself against one healthy man and another with a mangled pisser.

  The man whose nose she’d bloodied groaned as he got on his hands and knees to try and get up. That’s when She Grunts ran out before him.

  And then, she grunted in his face.

  It was a direct shot into his eyes and open mouth. The man gargled out a cry, flailing onto his side, arms jerking back.

 
; Payetta leapt at the man before her, and he barely had time to parry her deadly strike. She went on a rampage of blows, battering him back against his friend.

  Each strike from her blade took a chink out of his metal sword, the full force of her power flooding into the long hardwood shaft she’d meticulously carved.

  Suddenly the man inhaled and the look in his eyes told her he’d sucked in the full potency of She Grunts blast.

  She held her breath and swept forward, striking the man’s blade to the side and lunging with a fierce thrust. The blade entered his shoulder and she dropped down, ripping the man open from top to bottom.

  As he fell, mouth agape, she sheathed her wooden sword behind her left shoulder and drew her metal blade from her right. Turning to the man She Grunts had sprayed, she drove the tip down through his back and into his heart.

  As quick as she could, she darted away from the terrible smell that hung thick in the air, her lungs screaming for a breath. She ran several yards toward Justen’s position without breathing, then stopped to fill her lungs with air.

  She was about to take off again when she spotted him jogging toward her. She saw his eyes narrow at the two bodies behind her.

  “Where did they come from?” he asked with concern, his eyes inspecting her for wounds.

  Payetta shrugged. “I don’t know. I must have missed them when I focused in on the three. Just didn’t think to check the perimeter again.”

  Justen stopped before her and touched his hand to her forehead. “You’re hurt.”

  “Am I? I did head-butt one of the bastards.”

  “Gave you a pretty nasty cut.” Justen gently brushed the strands of hair from her forehead, then cupped the side of her face. She sighed inwardly at his touch, taking in his rugged, handsome face and his muscular frame as if admiring it afresh for the first time.

  Payetta purred. “A good opportunity to practice your healing magic.”

  “I am getting better,” replied Justen looking at the blood on her face. “One day I may need to heal more than cuts and scrapes.”