TEN HOURS LATER, AEGEDES RESTED AGAINST THE TRUNK OF the lone oak tree. Reaching into the pack that he had taken from his horse, he grasped some more dried jerky and his water flask. Because he wanted his stalkers to move fast, such meager rations were all that he had allowed each one to bring along. The jerky was tough and the water warm, but they would do for now.
Aegedes looked up at the sky. Night had fallen and the cloudless heavens held too many stars to count. The three red moons beamed down peacefully, belying the mayhem that would soon accompany Vespasian’s mighty war machine. With his nine vulgarium gathered quietly around him, Aegedes waited.
Soon the first of his patrols returned. They had killed some Shashidans traveling the roads, but otherwise their area of responsibility had been clear of endowed blood. As more patrols returned, their stories were much the same. The souls they had killed were few, the resistance meager, and there had been no stalker injuries.
Finally Paganus and his group rode up the grassy slope. Pulling his horse to a stop, the carnifex dismounted and bowed to his master. From his resting place against the base of the tree Aegedes took another sip of water and regarded his carnifex calmly. The fact that one stalker was missing was not lost on him.
Aegedes listened intently to Paganus’ report, including the killing of the unruly vulgaris. The Carnifex Magnus stood up before replying.
“It seems that our job is done,” he said, “and that the area in question has been cleared.” Walking to his warhorse, he swung up into the saddle.
“I go to report to the First Tribune,” he said, his horse dancing eagerly beneath him. “While I am away, do not leave this place. Keep trying to sense endowed blood, and above all protect this lone portal with your lives. If endowed blood is detected, search it out immediately and kill its owners. This is the most important campaign in the history of the empire and we cannot afford mistakes. You will likely see hundreds more portals forming within the hour. At that time, the tribunes will issue us new orders. You have done well, but our bloody work has just begun.”
Paganus gave Aegedes a crisp salute. “As you say, my lord,” he answered.
Wasting no time, Aegedes galloped his horse directly into the center of the azure portal, then he was gone.
Looking around the meager campsite, Paganus breathed a sigh of relief. For the time being their mission was over. Aegedes seemed pleased and he was off to give his report. Soon many more portals would form, then the Rustannican war machine would start pouring through them and this quiet place would become a madhouse of activity.
Deciding to take what rest he could, Paganus sat down in Aegedes’ place and leaned his tired back against the lone tree.
CHAPTER XXXII
“I AGREE,” FAEGAN SAID. THE WIZARD’S TONE WAS UNCHARACTERISTICALLY dour, his mood pensive.
“The outlook is not promising,” he added, “and it seems that whatever could have gone wrong did go wrong. Who knew that Khristos and his Blood Vipers would be waiting on the shore of the Azure Sea, or that those rock walls might suddenly arise?”
He gave Shailiha a reassuring smile and reached out to touch her hand. “But take heart,” he added softly. “Tristan and his group are a sturdy and resourceful lot. If anyone can reach Shashida, it is they.”
Sighing, the crippled wizard lifted Nicodemus from his lap. But the still-sleeping cat was not ready to be dislodged from the warmth of his master’s care, and his claws remained hooked in the fabric of Faegan’s worn black robe.
With a smile the wizard called the craft to gently release the cat’s claws and he set Nicodemus down on the floor. Not to be denied, the cat stretched lazily and wended his way among the meeting attendees’ legs, rubbing his arched back against them.
The topics being discussed in the Archives of the Redoubt were worrisome. Faegan, Traax, Shailiha, Abbey, Aeolus, and Sigrid sat at a meeting table, each person’s face long with concern for their beloved friends who were sailing into the unknown. Three days had passed since Tristan’s message had reached Shailiha by way of their matching medallions, and the princess was becoming anxious. Compounding her worries was that little could be done until Khristos and his vipers surfaced. Faegan and Aeolus had explained Khristos’ history to everyone, and Shailiha had been surprised to hear of him.
Several times since receiving Tristan’s message, the princess had been tempted to contact her brother before finally deciding against it. When the Envoys of Crysenium had enchanted Tristan and Shailiha’s medallions, they had warned the Jin’Sai that the gift could be easily overused, risking its loss altogether. And so Shailiha resolved to call on her medallion only if there was something of importance to convey to Tristan. So far, nothing had arisen. After getting Tristan’s message, Aeolus and Traax had led a group of Minion warriors deep into the Caves in a try to hunt Khristos down, but they returned empty-handed. Nor had Aeolus divined a hint of endowed blood.
Even so, the Vagaries wizard and his servants could still be hiding there, for the Caves were immense and the areas that Nicholas had excavated remained largely unexplored. Night Witch patrols searched the length and breadth of Eutracia, but they could find no sign of the Vagaries wizard or of his macabre forces. With no one to fight, Shailiha and her Conclave members felt stymied and frustrated. And so they anxiously waited for word from the Night Witches, for only then could a proper attack be planned.
But how does one fight a ghostlike enemy that can seemingly vanish at will? Shailiha wondered. And even if we find him and his vipers, will we prevail?
“Let’s review what we know,” Aeolus offered, rousing the princess from her thoughts. As she looked across the table, she found his calm manner comforting.
“First, Wigg and Jessamay are injured, but they will heal,” he said. He gave everyone around the table a little smile. “If I know those two, they’ll be back on their feet annoying everyone in no time.”
Shailiha looked over at Abbey to see the herbmistress smile for the first time in two days. She was terribly worried for Wigg, as they all were. But because she was Wigg’s lover, the First Wizard’s injuries struck a far more sensitive chord in her than in the others. After having been apart from Wigg for more than three centuries, she had no wish to lose him all over again. She had been desolate when it was decided that she would not accompany him on the journey, but she knew it was for the best. As she glanced back at Shailiha she tried to give the princess a hopeful look.
“The rock walls that rose from the sea floor are dangerous to navigate, but if Phoebe is right, the Ones might be funneling the Black Ships toward Shashida,” Aeolus went on to say. “If that is true and they can keep the ships clear of the walls, the path to Shashida is ensured.”
“Unless all this is a Vagaries trap, engineered by the Pon Q’tar,” Traax countered. “And even if Phoebe’s theory is right, problems remain. Their fighting force has been cut by a full one-third. That’s a staggering loss, and Tristan knows it. I can only imagine how savage the fighting on that beach must have been. Then there is this added business about the azure water perhaps damaging the ships’ hulls. I am fully aware that’s only a possibility, but should they lose those ships—”
“We can’t change those things,” Faegan interrupted. “So no matter how difficult it might be, we must not worry about them.”
Shailiha sighed and sat back in her chair. Faegan was right—worrying would do no good. Tristan had chosen his path, and nothing could prevent him from following it. It was what he was born to do, and everyone knew it.
She turned to look at Sigrid. The female warrior’s broken right arm was in a sling from tumbling through the bell shop roof in Tanglewood, but it was healing. Shailiha knew simply by looking at the devoted Night Witch that the pain Sigrid felt at not being able to lead her patrols far outweighed the suffering from her injured arm.
“There is still no sign of Khristos and his vipers?” Shailiha asked.
As Sigrid adjusted her sling, she winced. “No,” she said sadly. �
�It’s as though the earth swallowed them up. How does one move such a huge force without being seen from the air? It’s nonsensical—unless they’re still in the Caves. I fully understand that Khristos intended to kill Tristan’s group to keep them from reaching Shashida. And as Tristan’s message said, with Failee dead it is likely that Khristos has come under the control of the Pon Q’tar. But Tristan escaped, so why would Khristos linger in the Caves? At any given time several Night Witch patrols search Eutracia from above. My witches are exhausted, but finding the enemy has become a matter of honor. They’ll keep looking until they fall from the sky.”
“What are Khristos’ plans, indeed?” Faegan asked. He pulled thoughtfully on his beard for several moments. “There can be but one answer. Having failed to kill Tristan and his group, he will come after the Jin’Saiou.”
“How can you be so sure?” Shailiha asked.
“With Tristan free from Khristos’ reach, you present the most important target,” Aeolus answered. “If the Pon Q’tar cannot destroy your brother, they will settle for killing you. Khristos might be the last of the Vagaries worshippers on our side of the world whose gifts are powerful enough to commune with them and to do their bidding. They will surely use him to their greatest advantage.”
Shailiha’s expression hardened. “Then let him and his vipers come,” she said softly. “I welcome it! To reach me, he must first enter Tammerland. All the Minions have been put on alert, and the warriors patrolling the city streets have been doubled. If he and his forces enter the city, they will be seen. So I say let the fighting start! Anything is better than this infernal waiting!”
Just then an urgent pounding came on the Archives doors. “Enter!” Shailiha called.
The doors opened to show a Minion warrior standing there. Shailiha recognized Lars, the officer in charge of palace security. He was deeply out of breath. Running to the princess’s chair, he quickly went down on bended knee.
Realizing that something was wrong, Traax immediately stood. “Speak!” he shouted. “What is happening?”
“Tammerland is overrun by the Blood Vipers!” Lars cried. “The night is dark, but even so, we should have seen them coming! No one knows how they got into the city unseen, and their numbers are overpowering our street patrols! The citizens are at their mercy!”
“Are they marching on the palace?” Faegan demanded.
Lars vehemently shook his head. “That’s the strange part,” he said. “They seem to have no interest in the palace. The beasts are flowing down the streets like rushing rivers, burning buildings and killing people at random. The few warriors who survived the initial onslaught are fighting back, but they cannot last long!”
Snatching up his dreggan and baldric, Traax hurried to strap them on. “Has the Minion camp outside the palace walls been mobilized?” he demanded.
Lars turned toward Shailiha. “They have, Your Highness!” he answered. “They circle in the sky above the palace! Litters await you in the courtyard!”
Suddenly energized, Shailiha leapt to her feet. This was the moment she had been waiting for! At last the vipers had exposed themselves! Even so, she decided to withhold her orders until she and the Conclave could get into the air and take better stock of the situation.
As though of one mind, Lars, Sigrid, and the Conclave members charged from the room.
CHAPTER XXXIII
THIRTY-SIX HOURS EARLIER, KHRISTOS HAD STOOD ALONE just outside the entrance to the Caves of the Paragon. It was early evening, and he felt assured that he could linger there in safety. Shailiha and her Conclave would likely not yet know about his recent battle with Tristan and the Minions, and would therefore not think to search the labyrinthine caves. He had sadly informed Gracchus of his failure to kill the Jin’Sai, and of the strange rock walls that had surfaced from the Azure Sea. Even so, he had destroyed many Minion warriors, and for that he was glad. Following the orders Gracchus had given him during their earlier communion, he had come to this spot alone, leaving his vipers behind in the caves.
“Take no further action until you again sense my ken,” Gracchus had told him. “Worry not that you failed to kill the Jin’Sai. Exit the caves and await my word. At that time I will give you new orders that will spell the end of his twin, the Jin’Saiou. In many ways she is an even greater prize, and killing her will be equally delicious, I assure you. When Tristan hears of her death, the pain he will suffer will be even greater than had you killed him with your silver staff on that bloody beach.”
And so Khristos left his servants behind in the caves to come and tarry in the magenta moonlight.
As he stood waiting, the wind came up, ruffling the hem of his robe. The moonlight glinted off his staff, and the night creatures that had stopped singing when he first arrived slowly adjusted to his presence and took up their odd-sounding choruses again. The grass was heavy with dew, its countless stalks looking like row on row of tiny, glistening sword blades. This place was peaceful and beautiful, but he had little appreciation for it, because in his heart he only hungered to redeem himself and for his fight to start anew.
As he waited for Gracchus’ word he dropped the hood of his cloak, his hairless cranium shining in the moonlight. He then thought about Failee and smiled, wondering how she would have interpreted his new mission.
Although he was not taking her revenge in the manner that she had planned, this way was better, he decided. The Directorate of Wizards on whom she had originally wished to wreak vengeance were all dead, save for Wigg, Faegan, and Aeolus. And so he now did his best to kill those directly responsible for foiling Failee’s plans for Shailiha and for causing her untimely death. It is fitting, he reasoned.
Even now he missed the First Mistress, despite the wicked way she had tricked and used him. In truth his devotion to the Vagaries would allow him no other sentiment. Bearing a left-leaning blood signature of such great quality meant undying loyalty to the cause and unswerving devotion to those Vagaries mystics whose gifts outshone one’s own. So it had been with Failee, and so it now was with Gracchus.
What Khristos could not know was that before Gracchus deigned to again commune with him, the Pon Q’tar cleric would first meet in secret with his fellows in the small invisible war tent—the same tent that stood far away from the main body of Vespasian’s camp as the emperor awaited word from the Carnifex Magnus that the invasion could safely start. Because Gracchus had given the other Pon Q’tar members the bad news about Tristan’s escape and outlined his further plans for the Jin’Saiou, Gracchus was free to communicate his new orders to Khristos.
Just then the Viper Lord felt Gracchus’ mind reaching out to touch his. Going to his knees in the dewy grass, he bowed his head.
“I am here,” his thoughts said.
“Good,” Gracchus answered. “Pay close attention to my orders. You will soon use one of Failee’s spells with which you are intimately familiar. Following my instructions to the letter will take you far toward your final victory, and soon Eutracia and Parthalon will be yours to rule. Listen now and I will tell you all…”
As Gracchus outlined his plan, Khristos was surprised and impressed. The Jin’Saiou and her Conclave would never see the attack coming. Tammerland would be just the first step, but also the most important one. As he turned back to reenter the Caves, he smiled as he wondered what it would soon be like to sit on Tristan’s throne…
NINE HOURS LATER, KHRISTOS AND HIS SERPENTS HAD EXITED the Caves, and they stood along the southern bank of the Sippora River as it rushed eastward along the northern edges of Hartwick Wood toward the coast. Dawn would arrive soon, but for now the sky was still dark, its stealthy embrace hiding him and his servants from prying eyes. His Blood Vipers waited eagerly, their immense numbers stretching along the riverbank for nearly two full leagues. At his signal they would all leave this place and start their secret trek toward Tammerland. Then Khristos’ private war could start again.
To Khristos’ amazement, Failee’s three-hundred-year-old spell�
�the same one she had used to condemn Khristos to the water and give the viper embryos the chance to survive and to grow—still endured in them, Gracchus said. Moreover, when Khristos and his vipers again entered the water, like the time before, the spell would sustain them and they would no longer need to seek food. He had not known this, and he fully realized the many advantages that this new knowledge would bring. Failee’s spell that had once entrapped him and his vipers could now be used at will to further his ends.
How I wish that she could be here to see this night! he thought. What my love tried so hard to achieve is nearly in my grasp! When my task is done, the Vagaries will rule everywhere east of the Tolenka Mountains.
Having given his lead vipers their orders in the Caves, they had informed all of the others. As his Blood Vipers waited on the riverbank they eagerly writhed and hissed, wanting to be on their way. The time was now, Khristos realized. Raising his staff, he pointed it toward the river.
At once the thousands of Blood Vipers dived into the rushing Sippora and submerged. Failee’s unique spell that gave them life and allowed them to survive the depths would sustain them all the way to Tammerland, and the current would carry them along.
As he watched his servants vanish into the depths, he knew that they would not surface again until they were well into the heart of Tammerland, for the Sippora ran straight through the city’s center. Only then would they surface to climb the banks and enter the city. Their great numbers coupled with the huge advantage of surprise would quickly overcome the meager Minion patrols wandering the streets, and the killing could start. Even so, this part of Gracchus’ plan was only a diversion to help serve the more important stage that would follow.
In the heart of Tammerland the Sippora split into two branches before joining again and continuing toward the sea. The southernmost branch ran close by the royal palace. As the main body of Blood Vipers continued on, Khristos and the others would split off and keep traveling along the riverbed bordering the palace grounds.
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