The Hunter's Gambit

by Nicholas McIntire

  “Aleksei, they’ve already come. Gaitan said they did everything in their power, but….”

  And in that moment Aleksei understood. Jonas wasn’t afraid. He was terrified. For the first time in his life, he was at a loss.

  Jonas looked to Aleksei and found his eyes closed and his breathing quickened.

  “I’ll be fine.” Aleksei panted, “I just have to be careful for a little while, that’s all.”

  Jonas nodded uncertainly, “Well, as soon as we get back to Kalinor, I’m going to order you to a week’s bedrest.”

  Aleksei laughed, “I’m not sure circumstances will allow for that.”

  “I’m not joking, Aleksei.” Jonas snapped. The smile faded from Aleksei’s face. “I’m not sure you appreciate how serious this is. This is something I can’t heal. The Archanium won’t touch it. If this gets worse, if you can’t fight this, there’s a good chance you’ll die.” He paused for a moment before brokenly breathing, “We’ll die.”

  “What do you want me to do?” Aleksei demanded. “I can take to my bed like an invalid and hope that it doesn’t get worse. And you can sit in your library and watch as Emelian Krasik and his men pour across the Lawn and we can all die very swiftly by one of the eighty thousand swords that will be rushing towards us. Or I can take the chance that I’m worth more up and about and ill than I am asleep, in bed, and probably just as soon for the axe.

  “I think you’ll agree that it’s better to die fighting for something you love, someone you love, rather than being cut down in your bed.”

  Jonas stared at his love in silence, finally looking away. He had no response. Intellectually he knew what Aleksei said was true, and yet he couldn’t make his heart understand that the same thing that could save Kalinor would also force him to sacrifice the man he loved more than anything else in this world and those beyond.

  And to sacrifice himself in the process.

  Jonas let loose an exasperated sigh, “Why can’t you just go down to the forest floor and find some willing sacrifice to restore yourself? What’s the bloody point of having the Mantle if you can’t use it when it matters the most?”

  Aleksei looked away from his Magus, the fire and the fight within him evaporating. “I…I can’t. I don’t know how to explain it, but ever since I killed Lord Malak I haven’t been able to so much as sense it, much less summon it. Not properly.”

  “That’s preposterous.” Jonas snapped. “You showed it to me only days after Malak’s death.”

  “In a dream, Jonas. But so far, that’s been the closest I’ve come to actually calling it forth. I don’t know how I did it the first time. I tried my damndest when I was talking our way past that sentry, but no matter what I try, it doesn’t respond. Like it’s forsaken me.”

  “Aleksei,” Jonas said softly, “I won’t be in Kalinor to watch over you. I won’t be there if something happens. You will be alone.”

  Aleksei’s hackles rose, “What are you talking about?”

  Jonas lifted something from the floor. Aleksei squinted in the dim light and realized he was looking at a rough, tattered book. It was bound in heavy slabs of bark, the paper pressed from a variety of leaves.

  “This is a Ri-Vhan document from the Kholod War. It details the accounts of the first Hunter, of Richter, and his dealings with the Demonic Presence.

  “Aleksei, this book predates even the oldest manuscripts in the Voralla. Only the angels have a comparable document, yet this is by far more valuable. This is written from the perspective of the Magi at the time, and as such it is far more comprehensible to me.”

  “And what does it say?” Aleksei asked weakly.

  “It says that we’re all going to die.” Jonas answered despondently, casting his green-eyed gaze away. “Aleksei, I have to go to Dalita. I have to go to the Cathedral of Dazhbog. If the Prime Gate is open, then I need to see it for myself. We cannot continue to guess and jump at phantoms. The longer we do, the less time we’re preparing for the reality of our situation.”

  “And you can’t send a messenger bird? You have to go personally?”

  “The Cathedral is supposed to be a myth, remember? No bird knows its location. There are few enough people, and of them I’m the only one who could reach it quickly.”

  “But why the sudden urgency? We have until the next moon.”

  Jonas placed his face in his hands. Aleksei could feel the depth of the Magus' exhaustion and despair through the bond.

  “What is it?” Aleksei demanded, sitting up. Dread rose within him. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “You said yourself that the full moon was a few days ago. But did you see it?”

  “It’s been overcast on the Southern Plain for weeks, but the calendar doesn’t lie, Jonas. It’s not exactly difficult to determine when the full moon rose last.”

  “I’m not disagreeing with you. But Roux has told me that the sky here has been clear for the last week.”

  Aleksei frowned.

  “The books all agree on one thing. The Prime Gate only opens upon the full moon after the key is used. But on such a night even the moon cowers for fear of what it might behold.”

  “That’s ridiculous. How can the moon hide?”

  “It’s meant to serve as a warning.” Jonas snapped. “When the moon fails to rise, it signals that the Cathedral of Dazhbog has been defiled.

  “Aleksei, I have to be certain. I have to know what we’re dealing with.”

  The Knight rested his head back on the pillow, realizing how agitated he’d become. His heart hammered in his chest, its incessant thump matched only by his own short, painful gasps for air.

  He had no knowledge to lend, no magical forest to carry them there. Jonas was leaving, going somewhere impossibly dangerous, and for the first time, Aleksei simply couldn’t follow, no matter how he wanted to.

  “Don’t leave me.” he whispered, feeling panic well up from deep within.

  Jonas wasn’t able to hold the tears back any longer, “I have to. I’m sorry. You know how much I want to stay with you, but we have to know what’s coming for us. And I’m the only one who can get there fast enough.”

  Aleksei felt a frightened sob bubble to the surface. “I know.”

  It was the best he could muster before turning away.

  No matter how he much loved him, Aleksei couldn’t bear for Jonas to see him crying just then. He couldn’t allow his prince to see him give up hope.

  “Begging your pardon, Lord Captain, but I’m not entirely sure I heard you properly.”

  Aleksei cleared his throat and tried not to look as helpless as he felt, “You undoubtedly did, Majesty. There are eighty thousand men camped in the valley beneath the Drakleyn. For the moment they are trapped within the valley, but once the pass clears they will march on Kalinor.”

  “How long do we have to prepare?”

  “Before they march?” He shook his head gravely, “A week? Two? Much longer than that and they’ll be able to dig themselves out.”

  “And what is the state of our defenses?”

  Aleksei winced, “At present we have five thousand men in the Guard and three hundred and twenty-eight Magi, with an almost equal number of Knights, Majesty.”

  She waited for a moment, perhaps hoping that more figures were about to be announced, “Is that all?”

  “In Kalinor, yes. To the south there are twenty-six thousand in the Sulaq Hills with Colonel Rysun, and fifty-seven hundred in Keiv-Alon under Major Rixon.

  “To the north there are three thousand in Keldoan under Colonel Walsh, but both Major Rixon and Colonel Walsh are presently defending their cities against possible attack. As a fair number of Kalinori citizens made the journey to Keldoan with the remaining Lords of Parliament, it seems ill-advised to remove their only defense.

  “Meager as our numbers are, I had thought they might be enough to defend against a smaller force. But eighty thousand…Majesty, we need every available solide
r we can get inside Kalinor as quickly as possible. As it stands I hardly have enough to operate the anti-siege equipment we’ll require, much less fight.”

  “And how long will it take to move the men from the Hills to Kalinor?”

  “An army of that size can only move a certain number of leagues a day, Majesty. I would estimate them to arrive within a month, perhaps faster if they push themselves to exhaustion.”

  A month.

  It seemed an eternity with this threat hanging over them, and even when the men did arrive there was no certainty that their numbers would be enough to make a difference.

  “Send Colonel Rysun the order to march for Kalinor with all the haste he can muster.” she said finally. Thirty thousand against eighty. “Now then, what is the state of the city?”

  “Majesty, the farmers have all been ordered to bring as much of their produce into the city as can be carried or carted. As it is winter, there is little to harvest at present, but all grain stores in the area are being relocated inside the city gates. I have ordered the carpenters’ guild to cease civilian orders and begin constructing anti-siege armaments. Catapults, ballistae and the like. And the foundry has been instructed to step up production on projectiles, as well as repair all Legion equipment brought before them as a priority.”

  “So you think they’ll put us under siege?”

  Aleksei blinked in surprise at the question, “Majesty, a siege is our only chance. Open warfare against eighty thousand men would be suicide.

  “As long as we can hold Kalinor, we can send out raiding parties to steal supplies and whittle away at their men. Our walls are our primary defense at this point. But short of guerrilla warfare, we don’t stand much of a chance in the field.”

  Andariana regarded him with surprise, “Are the Legionnaires trained in guerrilla warfare?”

  Aleksei allowed himself a small smile, “No, Majesty, but the men of the Guard are now, as are the Knights in the Voralla. If necessary, I can arrange to have members of the Ri-Vhan come and instruct the Legionnaires from Mornj in the same tactics. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve made the request.

  “But given enough time, we might be able to cut the enemy down to a more manageable size.” He paused to cough for a moment, pressing his plain white kerchief against his mouth and leaning against the side of her heavy chestnut desk as the fit overtook him. When he regained what was left of his composure, he rose again. The white cloth came away from his mouth a deep and vibrant scarlet.

  The Queen looked away, “I am gravely concerned for your health, Lord Captain.”

  “Me too.” Aleksei grunted stolidly, “But at the moment I’ve got no choice but to persevere. There’s simply too much at stake. Jonas is doing what he can in the north, and I’ll carry on here. If it makes you feel any better, many of the men marching towards us are likely consumed with the same sickness.”

  Andariana sighed heavily, dropping into her armchair by the fire, “I don’t care for this type of warfare, or for striking down our own people, for that matter.”

  “Neither do I, Majesty, but the truth is that they share no such misgivings. As far as these men are concerned, they’re patriots. They are fighting for a cause they believe to be just. They believe the gods are on their side. And this makes them extremely dangerous, Majesty.”

  “And our own men?”

  Aleksei quirked a sad smile, “Well, Majesty, of course our men feel much the same, though with one crucial difference. We have been backed into a corner. And as such, we will fight with all the strength of desperation.”

  Andariana seemed suddenly tired. She stared into the fire, “How has it come to this. I’ve spent my entire life trying to avoid Marra’s mistakes, but it seems that despite my best efforts, I find myself once again staring into the face of a civil war that could rend our realm to tatters.

  “Gods, the House of Belgi will be remembered not for the decades of peace and prosperity, but rather for the specters of war and death that have repeatedly ravaged the realm.”

  Aleksei watched her carefully, taken aback at her sudden frankness.

  “Very well, Drago, you are dismissed.” she muttered after a pregnant pause. “I know you have a great number of orders to dispatch.”

  Aleksei bowed pointedly, “Majesty.”

  He stepped out into the hall, catching sight of Sammul as he did so and heading in the opposite direction. The last thing he wanted was to waste time justifying his actions to an idiotic fop.

  “Lord Captain, a word.”

  Aleksei stopped in his tracks, resisting the urge to pretend as though he’d never heard the High Magus call after him. Instead he turned and regarded the man with his closest approximation of a smile.

  “High Magus, I’m very busy. What do you want?”

  Sammul sidestepped the insult, “I was merely curious, Lord Captain, whether you’d spoken to the Prince of late. I’ve not seen him stir from his room recently.”

  Aleksei allowed his face to betray no sign of emotion, “Prince Belgi is concerned about the coming war, High Magus. I think he has been searching for answers in the Archanium. And I know that he’s prepared to meet any threat posed to this city and its people. Might I recommend that you advise your Magi to be equally prepared?”

  Sammul looked shocked, “Lord Captain Drago, surely you are not suggesting that I ask the men and women of the Voralla to train for war!”

  “That is exactly what I am suggesting.” Aleksei snarled. “As I have said in many reports up to this point, I have firsthand knowledge of Magi in Lord Perron’s camp. Magi who follow the farthest meridians of the Nagavor. If the Magi of the Voralla are not prepared to meet such a threat then they will die. We will all die.”

  “But surely you can’t believe Chancellor Perron will use such magic—”

  “A commander doesn’t always use every weapon in his arsenal, High Magus. He chooses the one that will do the most damage and then builds his force around it. Lord Perron has lived in Kalinor for many years. He was one of the men pressing the case against Ilyana when she was charged with using the Archanium as a weapon. He knows the limits of your Magi.

  “Believe me, High Magus, when I say that Perron will not hesitate to kill every man, woman, and child in this city with the Archanium. Our job, and more specifically your job, is to make sure that our forces can provide at least something of a counter to his Magi. If you cannot, we will die.”

  “But Lord Captain–”

  “Oh, and since we’ve been doing your job for you recently, the actual threat is a Magus named Bael. He has unleashed something called the Demonic Presence. I suggest you look it up. And Emelian Krasik is running this whole operation. He calls himself the Zra-Uul, which is apparently some sort of Kholodym construct, so you might keep that in mind as well when you’re training your useless disciples.”

  The glint of loathing was hard to miss in Aleksei’s glimmering golden gaze. “Good day, High Magus.”

  Aleksei stalked away from Sammul without another word. He managed to contain his frustration until he reached his office in the upper east wing.

  When a young aide entered, alarmed at the violent pounding emanating from the Lord Captain’s office, he found Aleksei red-faced at his desk. There was a conspicuous hole in the plaster behind the Lord Captain.

  “Ah, Master Richmond.” Aleksei said pleasantly, “Would you go fetch one of the messengers and ask him to come to my office? I have an errand of utmost importance.”

  Richmond nodded uncertainly, glancing at the shattered remains of a field chair in the corner. “Right away, Lord Captain. City or country?”

  “What?”

  “Your message, milord. Is it meant for the city or will the messenger need to go out into the countryside?”

  “Countryside.”

  “Thank you, milord. I’ll fetch him presently.”

  Aleksei reached into his desk and removed a small stack of paper. He dipped his horn
pen into the inkwell and began scratching out a missive to Rysun. After a few moments he sanded and blotted the freshly written orders, sealing them with golden wax. Rysun would know from the seal the urgency of the papers within.

  “Gods,” he muttered, “if my father could see me now.”

  There was a knock at the door and Aleksei looked up in surprise. Richmond must have run all the way there and back with the messenger to return that quickly.

  “Enter.” he said, sitting back in his chair.

  A young man hurried in, red in the face and panting, “Messenger Jonathan Tanner to see you, Lord Captain.”

  “At ease, Master Tanner. I need you to take this,” he said, lifting the sealed packet of orders, “to Colonel Rysun in the Sulaq Hills. I’m afraid I don’t have an exact location for you, but they’ll be along one of the tributaries of the Ylik Water, and several leagues off the road. These are documents of tremendous importance. Take two horses and change them out if necessary, just get there as soon as possible.”

  “As you command, Lord Captain.”

  Tanner stepped forward and took the sealed packet from the Lord Captain. He saluted one more time, then raced from the room. The doors banged closed behind him as he dashed through the east wing.

  He had reached the doors to the Lawn when a voice sounded behind him.

  “Tanner! We got a request for Keiv-Alon. Can you field it?”

  He bit his lip. The Lord Captain had stressed speed at any cost, but he could just as easily swing up through Keiv-Alon on his way back to Kalinor.

  “Who’s it for?” he asked.

  “Some noble in town. Looks like he pays quite well, too.”

  “Alright, give me the address. And quickly!”

  Gods, if the Lord Captain knew he was doing this…but he wasn’t losing that much time. It would just be a quick pickup. He wouldn’t get paid until he returned with the response.

  A few minutes later he was riding his horse at a breakneck pace down Tailor Street and onto Swallow Avenue. He leapt from his horse’s back and ran to the door, banging on it frantically. Gods, but he had to hurry!