Free The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume II by Irene Radford

very well find flywackets hiding in the clouds,” Nimbulan chuckled.
    “Have you experimented with combining magic?” Quinnault leaned over Nimbulan’s chair. His excitement stripped years of care and worry from his face. He was younger than Nimbulan thought.
    “The battles must end for the winter. I have five moons or more to experiment. I need a place of safety to work and train my apprentices, to recruit other magicians who are weary of war. . . .”
    “Change your allegiance to me, Nimbulan, and I will give you one of my islands. An ancient monastery, abandoned before the beginning of these wars, stands fast against time and the elements. You’ll have safety and privacy there.”
    “Isn’t the peace of all of Coronnan worth lending that island without having me dishonor my previous vow?”
    A smile lit Quinnault’s eyes and banished the odd shadows. The candles blazed brighter and warmer.
    “If you had given any other answer, Master Nimbulan, I would always doubt your loyalty. The island is yours for as long as you need it. Find your students and begin your experiments.”
     
    Moncriith watched Ackerly, the short assistant magician, through narrowed eyes. No aura of great power surrounded the square-built man, and yet he associated freely with the Battlemages.
    “Take the provisions, Moncriith. I offer them freely, without obligations.” Ackerly held out a bulging saddlebag. “It’s not much but it should see all of you to the next stronghold or village.”
    “Thank you.” Moncriith bowed his head. The humble gesture allowed him to watch Ackerly through his lowered eyelashes.
    Ackerly squirmed a little. Moncriith bit back a smile at the magician’s discomfort.
    “I accept your gift of sustenance freely. But I do not understand why you give me aid when you serve Nimbulan, the man who exiled me from the hospital and my righteous quest.”
    “Harrumf,” the guard tugging at Moncriith’s elbow cleared his throat. He shuffled his feet, anxious to escort Moncriith and his followers two leagues beyond the camp perimeter. Five more heavily armed men encircled Moncriith’s two dozen, very ragged followers.
    Moncriith turned a warning gaze upon the impatient guards. They resumed staring into the distance. Watching elsewhere didn’t close the men’s ears though. In the army, every man must report to his superior officers. Many men stood in the chain of command between one sergeant and the chief Battlemage, Nimbulan. Moncriith wondered what the men would report and how soon.
    “No man should be turned out into a storm without provisions. I don’t care if the warlord and his mage disagree with your views. You’re a magician and should be respected.” Ackerly stopped shuffling and stood straight.
    Moncriith stiffened in indignation. “The priests have rejected my vision from the Stargods. Demons have invaded even the hallowed temples. The priests and their puppet magicians have cast me out rather than face the demons who pervert their magic. According to them, you owe me nothing.” Every time he thought of the humiliation heaped upon his head by the pompous elders of the temple, anger boiled up within him. His spine stretched taller. Blood swelled within his neck and face. His heart raced while his lungs panted and overfilled with air.
    Ackerly stared him directly in the eye. “You and I have a lot in common, Moncriith. Neither one of us can weave the magic of the Kardia into our spells. Because of that we are relegated to minor positions serving those who can. No one is willing to give either of us credit for intelligence or other skills simply because we lack that one talent. Well, you’ve broken out of the mold this world cast for you and found a different way to work magic. I admire that. I’ll never have the courage to do anything but what Nimbulan orders.”
    “In a perfect world, mundanes, who outnumber magicians one thousand to one, would rule. Magicians should be servants not commanders.”