by A. C. Cobble
She was also keeping an eye out on the disparate groups of mages who had joined them. Guardians, men and women from Jasper’s group, and runaways from the Sanctuary. They’d all agreed to follow, but none of them actually seemed to be doing it. Ben and Amelie kept them busy far-seeing the surrounding area and healing those they could. He knew that within days, the mages would be looking for more.
Upstairs, Adrick Morgan was slowly recovering from his injuries. The man had been nearly dead, and only the strange girl Elle’s healing had saved him. He was able to get onto his feet now without assistance, but they guessed it’d be another week or two before he regained full strength. In the meantime, Ben had the guardians pairing with the more experienced rangers and learning life outside of their forest. The rangers were experienced both in the wilderness and in towns, and the guardians seemed most comfortable around them.
Ben was dealing with a number of reports that had come in and was trying to tie it together with information from the mage’s far-seeing. He’d spread a map out across half the table. On it, he was tracking several large swarms of demons that had broken off from the main demon army and were threatening the north. They were nothing like what they’d faced a week ago, but a small village would have no defense against them. Days earlier, Ben decided their next move was to finish off the creatures before moving on to other concerns. While any demon swarm survived, their work was not done. The Veil, Avril, the Alliance, the Coalition, they could be dealt with after. Besides, facing the demons had earned them an army. Maybe finishing the threat would gain more loyalty from the survivors in the north. He hated to think like that, but he had few other choices.
A loud thump drew his attention, and he looked across the table to Rhys. The rogue was leaning back, frowning at a pitcher set in front of him. The man was taking up the other half of their table with his efforts, two empty pitchers and a plate of gnawed-clean rib bones.
“Out of ale again,” drawled Rhys.
“It’s not even dark outside,” reminded Ben. “Is another round really necessary?”
“You’re a lot less fun than you used to be,” complained Rhys.
“I’ve got so much to do,” responded Ben. “In addition to figuring out how we can efficiently finish these swarms, I have those letters to the nearby lords that Amelie suggested we send, the discussions with that grain merchant up from the City, the banker who fled Northport, the mayor of Kirksbane was talking my ear off all morning… I’ve barely had time to sit. There’s more to do in a day than I can finish in a week!”
“I hear what you mean,” agreed Rhys.
Ben frowned at the rogue.
Rhys met his gaze innocently, lifting his mug and taking a sip.
“You’re the only one in this group who isn’t doing anything,” accused Ben. “Can’t you find something to keep you busy?”
Rhys looked offended. “I am busy!”
“Doing what?”
“Drinking!” exclaimed Rhys. To prove his point, he turned his mug up the rest of the way and finished it in three quick gulps.
Prem slipped noiselessly into a chair beside the rogue and asked, “You want me to order you another pitcher?”
Rhys favored her with his brightest smile. “That would be lovely.”
She stood and walked away, looking for the innkeep Tabor, moving just as silently as when she arrived.
“I don’t know what she sees in you,” complained Ben.
“Women like a scoundrel,” claimed Rhys. “The worse you act, the more attractive you become.”
Ben rolled his eyes.
“Seriously,” said Rhys, leaning forward, “you should try it on Amelie.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Where did that blond barmaid go, you know, the one Amelie is so fond of?” asked Rhys. “I bet she likes a bit of a rogue.”
“Rhys,” warned Ben flatly.
They were interrupted when one of the sergeants of the rangers, a man whose name Ben couldn’t recall for the life of him, burst into the room. His eyes darted about, and then, he scurried to Ben’s table.
“My Lord.”
Ben winced.
Not noticing the reaction, the man continued, “Terrible news, sir.”
“What is it?” asked Ben, struggling to keep the dread out of his tone.
“King Argren, my lord. He’s been assassinated.”
Ben sat up straight. “What? When?”
The ranger brushed his hair back from his eyes. “Three weeks past. News made it through Sineook Valley just this morning. Seems someone put a knife in the old man’s back. No one saw the assassin, and no one’s taken credit. The merchant who brought the news says everyone is assuming it was the Coalition, of course. Who else?”
“King Argren’s dead,” murmured Ben. “The Alliance, is it over?”
Amelie and Towaal arrived, either having sensed Ben’s shock or overhearing the conversation. The room fell silent as others realized the importance of the news.
The ranger shook his head. “No, not from what the merchant said.”
“Who’s taking the throne?” asked Amelie. “Argren has no natural heirs. His wife is a slip of a thing and has no respect from the court. He married her simply because she’s already proven fertile. She isn’t even highborn. The other houses will be scrambling. I-I don’t even know who would be next in line.”
“The general, I’m told,” said the ranger. “That new foreign one, the one who was just elevated to high command.”
“Saala Ishaam?” queried Lloyd, coming from across the room.
Ben blinked. “Saala Ishaam?”
“Aye,” said Lloyd. “He’s the new general in Whitehall. He was Lord Gregor of Issen’s liegeman for a time. Half a year ago, he uncovered a plot to assassinate Argren and was brought in as the King’s personal protection. He’s been rising in the ranks since then. I’ve never met the man, but I’m told he’s a blademaster of incredible skill.”
Ben’s mouth hung open.
“I don’t know if it’s him or not,” said the ranger. “I do know the merchant said that the general’s ordered the troops to march, but I guess sail is the right word. They’ll be crossing the Blood Bay, headed to Issen.”
“What!” cried Ben, springing up and knocking his chair back.
The ranger looked back at him, confused.
“Argren’s dead, Saala’s general, and he decided to march?” said Towaal, sounding just as confused as the ranger.
“Why would he do it?” asked Amelie.
“There are two ways for a lord to control a population,” said Ben, beginning to pace. “That’s what Saala told us. You can do good works and earn the respect of your people, or you can unite them in fear.”
“You know Saala Ishaam?” wondered Lloyd quietly, but no one answered him.
“The Red Hand,” reminded Rhys. “That bald-headed bastard never forgot his ambitions from before, from the South Continent. He landed in an opportunity he probably never dreamed of, and he took it.”
“We have to talk to him, to stop this!” declared Ben. “With Argren dead, there’s no reason Whitehall should sail to war.”
Rhys shook his head sadly. “Ben, there’s no reason the lords of Whitehall would support a general taking the throne unless they wanted war. There are new lands and profit for them if they win. If they back down, they’ll be seen as cowards, and it’s only a matter of time before the Coalition encroaches or the minor lords in Sineook and elsewhere think they no longer need to respect Whitehall. No, Whitehall is set on this road. We show up there with this force you’re assembling, and that will be the end of it. Instead of a conversation, you’ll have a fight.”
“No,” said Ben. “We have to talk to him. This is senseless. All this time, we’ve been struggling to find a plan to stop the conflict. Now Saala—”
“Ben, Rhys is right,” interjected Towaal. “Saala may have given the orders, but if he did, he did it with the support of the rest of the lords of Whiteh
all. What we learned about his past… Ben, you won’t be able to talk him out of this.”
“We have to,” said Ben.
“You want us to march to Whitehall?” questioned Rhys.
“No,” answered Ben, thinking quickly. “The demons are still out there, still ravaging the north. We must deal with that, and we must stop Saala. There’s only one way. We have to split up.”
The room erupted in objections but Ben held up his hand. “You all agreed to follow me, yes? Was that meant literally, that you’d always be in my shadow, or did you mean you’d follow my direction? Working together but apart, we can put a stop to all of this. We can stop the demons, and the Alliance!”
The room was silent, the men and women shifting and glancing at each other out of the corners of their eyes.
“Lloyd,” instructed Ben, “you and Adrick will take our arms men north, just like we discussed. You’ll clean out the territory between here and Northport and then move east along the highroad. I’ll also send you the Sanctuary’s mages and Jasper’s group. They should be plenty of support even against a large swarm. Without the demon-king, the creatures will be susceptible to magic.”
“Amelie,” he began, but he paused when he saw the dark look in her eyes. “Ah, you can come with me if you want. It’s, uh, it’s up to you—”
“Yes,” she responded, steel lacing her voice. “I think I will come with you.”
“I as well,” insisted Towaal. “It’s foolish to leave you without a mage, Ben. Besides, I know Saala just as well as anyone. Maybe I can assist.”
Ben glanced at Rhys. “You too?”
The rogue merely shrugged.
“Prem,” said Ben, “you can discuss it with your father, but I’d like you with us as well. The two of you can commune through thought meld, and we can stay in touch with the bulk of our force.”
The girl glanced at Rhys and then replied, “My father will understand. I will go with you.”
“Ben,” objected Lloyd, “if I go as well—”
“No,” responded Ben. “The blademasters and rangers respect you, Lloyd, as they should. You’re the best fit to lead them and the other arms men we’ve picked up. Adrick can manage the guardians and the mages. I trust the two of you to work together and make the right decisions. If needed, we can discuss options through Adrick and Prem’s thought meld. Besides, going into Whitehall, we’re better off with a smaller group.”
Lloyd frowned but didn’t object.
Ben looked around the silent room. Blademasters, rangers, mages all met his gaze.
“I’ll leave as soon as we’re able to get a plan squared away,” he said. “Good luck in the north, and know that I would be with you if it wasn’t… If it wasn’t for what we have to do. If there is any chance to stop the war between the Alliance and the Coalition, we have to take it. The demons would have wrought devastation on Alcott. We can’t let our fellow man do the same.”
“What happens after we’ve cleared the demons and head east?” asked Lloyd.
Ben glanced at Amelie and then addressed the room, “We’ll meet again in Issen.”
1
Logistics and Supply
Ben glanced up from the stacks of loose paper in front of him and watched Amelie as she shuffled through her own thick sheaf of parchment. Quill in hand and lost in her thoughts, she jotted down some notes on one sheet and then flipped through the stack, looking for a different document. They were closeted in a tiny room in one of Kirksbane’s inns, trying to figure out the logistics of getting their men north, where they could deal with the swarms of demons that had escaped them. Supply of food and water, weapons and armor, payment for the men… Fighting the creatures steel-to-claw was easy compared to the challenges of leadership.
Ben smiled as Amelie rubbed a hand across her face, smearing a blob of dark ink on her forehead. After knocking on the table to get her attention, he mimicked wiping his forehead off. She cursed, licked a finger, and scrubbed at her face until he nodded that she’d gotten it.
Sitting back with a heavy sigh, she complained, “Normally, a lord has land and people. He can levy taxes on production within the realm or sell the services of his people to merchants or other highborn. If that doesn’t work, a lord can sell bonds on future tax revenue or borrow coin using physical property as collateral. In extreme cases, highborn can sell their land and assets outright. No lord wants to do it, but plenty have sold off part of their holding or even their ancestor’s silver candlesticks and tapestries. That’s desperate, of course, and my tutors would have blanched at the thought, but the point is there are usually options. With people, land, and a proper keep, there are always options to raise coin. Ben, we don’t have any of those. I’m running out of ideas here!”
Ben frowned. A thousand men and women had joined them, and while he’d made no promise to pay them, they certainly wanted to eat. Food cost coin, and they didn’t have any. To make use of the recruits, he needed to provide for them.
Most of the newest arrivals had shown up with only a satchel of goods they’d brought from home. They had no weapons, no armor, and no gear suitable for marching through the woods and hunting swarms of demons. They needed proper kits and weapons, but most of all, they had to eat.
“We can cut some of them loose,” suggested Amelie. “The blademasters, mages, and Adrick Morgan’s guardians can handle the demon swarms without the others. In fact, if anything, these untrained farmers are just as likely to get in the way and cause confusion as anything else. We might be better off without them.”
Ben shook his head. “And then what? After the remaining demons are dealt with, we still have the Sanctuary, the Alliance, and the Coalition to address. I don’t plan to start a war with them, but…”
“I know,” muttered Amelie, pushing her hair back behind her ears and making a fresh smear of ink at her temples. “Without allies, we’re in the same place we were a few months ago. With allies, we can’t afford to move where we are needed!”
“The mayor…” offered Ben.
Amelie grimaced. “The mayor is an option. It’s not a good one, though.”
“If it’s the only option, it’s a good option,” suggested Ben.
Amelie stood and began pacing around the small room. “He wants for you to name him a lord, to elevate his family to highborn. That’s not something you do lightly, Ben.”
He shrugged.
Amelie watched his movement and pursed her lips. “I know you don’t understand, but other noble families will not look kindly on an action like that. Lord Vonn in Venmoor will be even less enthusiastic. If I had to guess, I think he might view it as an act of war.”
“We’re not trying to take his territory!” argued Ben.
“The mayor is offering to support us from Kirksbane’s coffers. The Mayor of Kirksbane is Vonn’s vassal. That is Vonn’s coin, Ben. It is stealing from him.”
“He sent his men with us, the rangers,” protested Ben.
“His men who are now our men,” retorted Amelie. “Those who lived through the battle, at least. I doubt at the time he thought they’d stay with us. Ben, taking his men, taking his gold… we can hardly expect him to sit calmly in Venmoor while we do it. We’ll be lucky if he doesn’t gather every able body he can and march against us.”
Ben grimaced. She had a point.
A sharp knock on the door interrupted them. Ben opened it to find one of the rangers standing on the other side, breathing hard.
“What is it?”
“Lord Ben, one of the training expeditions found something. You should come see it.”
Three bells and several leagues south of Kirksbane, Ben stood on the edge of a wide swath of destruction.
“They were to head half a day south and then cut west into the forest, sir,” said Commander Rish, Commander Rakkash’s replacement. “The sergeant came right back after they found this. Figured it was more important to report it than to continue on the training mission. We’ll have another opportunity to get
the greenhorns some field experience. This…”
Ben nodded. “The sergeant made the right choice, Commander.”
Lady Towaal delicately stepped onto the charred stretch of road and picked her way to the middle of what appeared to have been a considerable explosion. The charred area spanned fifty paces, and a large crater formed its center. All around, black ash and scattered debris spoke of a violent blast.
“There are no wards or other traps that I can sense,” advised Towaal.
Ben walked forward and peered down into the wide crater. All he could see was flame-scorched dirt, two or three paces deep.
“Bodies over here,” called Rhys.
Ben made his way around the crater and joined Rhys at the south end of the blast area where he eyed the six black lumps Rhys was standing over. He assumed the rogue was right, that they were bodies, but nothing resembling a person survived.
“A magical attack, without doubt,” murmured Rhys. His hand slipped to his belt and he unfastened one of his ubiquitous flasks. He took a swig and handed it to Ben.
Instinctively, Ben turned it up and gulped a mouthful of the harsh liquor. “If it wasn’t one of our mages…”
“The Sanctuary,” declared Towaal. She’d moved to stand beside them. “Who else could it be?”
“Is anyone missing?” Ben asked Commander Rish.
The ranger shrugged. “No one that I’m aware of. Everyone around town is accounted for. The training patrols are operating in squads of twenty or thirty, so if one of them had been attacked and six killed, we would have heard from the survivors by now.”
“If it wasn’t our people who were attacked…” Ben trailed off, frowning.
“Why would the Sanctuary attack a party that wasn’t ours?” wondered Rhys.
Ben glanced at Amelie. She had ignored the corpses and was walking around outside of the blast area, looking for clues. Better there than within the charred circle. Nothing identifiable was left there.