by M. E. Thorne
“Beloved,” she gasped more quietly, removing the cloth and wiping her eyes, “it’s good that I love you with all my heart, otherwise I would be sorely crossed with you right now.”
Her arms were stained black by pitch, and I could see some of the foul substance had gotten stuck in her hair. I used the edge of my robe to help clean her fingers, before kissing them.
“Thank you,” I told her, before eyeing the objects she had spent all day making. I counted ten in total, all made according to my directions.
“How did your end go?” she asked.
Nichessa unwrapped the two megaphones, handing one over to her.
Vexile gasped as she touched it. “They’re magical.”
“Well, yeah,” the blacksmith replied, “I used magic to make them, so of course there’d probably be some stuck onto them.”
“No,” Vexile shook her head, “I mean these are imbued with powerful enchantments, like the artifact back in Gloomglow.” She drew us further away from the soldiers. “Only the Dark Lord and ascendants can directly wield Revina’s blessings as magic. For others, they need to depend on artifacts, objects blessed by those directly touched by Revina. These objects store divine power until it’s unleashed.”
I picked up the other megaphone, feeling the same spark I had before. “So they hold a charge, like a battery?”
Neither of my queens got the reference, I had to quickly explain what a battery was and how they were used to store potential energy.
Vexile nodded, thinking. “Yes, that analogy works. Artifacts hold blessed power, but they are typically directed towards a single purpose, like your ancestor’s artifact. The Luminark archangels, for example, enchant weapons given to high-ranking members of the military or inquisition. Their weapons can call about divine thunder, shoot gouts of fire, or summon burning rays of light.”
Nichessa frowned, “Then what the fuck did I make?”
Vexile carefully ran a finger along the horn’s fangs, her tongue flicking in and out. “What were you thinking about when you made them?”
“Robert said they needed to make your voices louder,” Nichessa responded, “so I concentrated on that, and I kind of just let the inspiration and magic take over.”
Vexile peered down the barrel of the megaphone, then handed it back to her. “You did an amazing job, and I’m sure that we don’t want anyone standing in front of us when we use these things.”
I waved to the soldiers to wrap up their work. “Come, it’s time we lay the dead to rest.”
Chapter 21
It must have been close to midnight by the time we crested the ridge just south of the execution hill. We’d spent the evening monitoring the Luminark patrols, making sure that we fully understood their routes before attacking.
A huge bonfire was burning on the hilltop, illuminating Sanderson’s victims. Luminark guards policed the perimeter, but they appeared uneasy with their duty. Most clustered in groups of two or three, well away from the bodies. We could hear the quiet mumble of gossip and smell the stink of acrid, narcotic smoke.
I had debated asking Vexile to conjure up another cloud of confusion venom, but I was afraid the wind would suddenly change and send the venom back into our ranks. Through testing, we’d determined that her venom clouds didn’t affect me or Revina’s ascendants, but I didn’t want to risk our soldiers getting caught. They had a critical job ahead of them.
Vexile and I stationed ourselves near the top of the ridge, megaphones ready, while Nichessa and Garnet were just below. The soldiers were hidden in a small gully that ran parallel to the execution grounds. Everyone was wearing cloth masks, just as Vexile had been earlier.
Garnet carefully unwrapped the brimstone bombs her soldiers and Vexile had spent the day creating. Using spare canvas and blankets, they had wrapped chunks of sulfur in fabric before soaking them in pitch.
It appears all my time reading about medieval warfare is finally going to pay off, I thought. The bombs were crude, but they were sure to burn with intense heat and choking smoke.
The soldiers already had out their crossbows, and they were carrying pitch torches and several buckets of the noxious liquid.
We were going to give Sanderson’s victims a catastrophic funeral pyre, lit by the corpses of Luminark dead.
Whatever qualms I have about killing, I need to leave them behind, I firmly told myself.
The Luminark had proven themselves to be inhuman killers, and for the sake of our kingdom and our people, I had to be ready to meet violence with violence.
Readying my crossbow, I placed it on the ground next to me. Raising my megaphones, I nodded to Vexile, and she readied the other. Swiftly standing up, we placed them up to our mouths and channeled Revina’s divine power.
The sound they made was ear-splitting. Whatever magic Nichessa had imbued into the megaphones, they amplified the sounds we made a thousandfold. From their bells came the most gut-wrenching noise, like the primal cry of some horrid monster, hungry for blood and vengeance.
Garnet and the soldiers joined in by rattling their iron sheets, creating artificial rumbles of thunder that rang throughout the hills.
My ears were ringing by the time I lowered the megaphone from my mouth. Vexile looked as shocked as I was. I let it slip to my side, held in place by a simple cloth bardic; I then grabbed my crossbow and ran as Vexile headed the other direction, the horn tight in her hand.
Nichessa had already begun her part of the operation. With Garnet’s help, they lit the brimstone bombs on fire. Grabbing two of the blazing orbs at a time, she hurled them towards the execution grounds, the bundles bursting into blazing flames with each impact.
Glad we confirmed she’s indeed fireproof, I thought, as I watched her grab two more burning bombs, hurling them at the execution grounds.
The guards that Sanderson had stationed on the hilltop were in a complete panic. Several had abandoned their posts, fleeing towards the perceived safety of the camp, while others spun about, trying to catch sight of the imaginary beasts.
Our soldiers, taking advantage of the chaos, slipped up the hill. I watched as the lead members of the squad fired their crossbows, silently taking out two of the closest guards. They reached the top of the hill and used the fires set by the brimstone bombs to light their torches.
I rounded the ridge and ran behind them, only pausing once to use the megaphone, the air quaking at the reverberating howl. In the distance, I heard Vexile do the same, the hills echoing with our calls.
“Dragons! There’s more than one!”
A horrified Luminark guard ran down the hillside directly towards me. In his blind flight, he didn’t even notice me until he was practically on top of me.
It all happened so fast. One second he was running, the next, a quick flicker of realization filled his eyes. He saw me, and he reached for his sword even as he tried to skid to a stop.
A bolt, launched from my crossbow, caught him square in the throat. With a bloody, gurgling scream, he tumbled and fell. Dead.
I was on autopilot.
I knew that the Luminark couldn’t find any signs of our presence, like a dead guard with a crossbow bolt still stuck in him. Grabbing the man’s arm, I began hauling him up the hill with me. If he weighed anything, I didn’t notice.
One of the soldiers, Grenn, saw me drag his corpse onto the hilltop. They dashed over and helped me yank the bolt from his neck. Another soldier came over and covered the corpse in pitch, before setting it alight with a torch. I didn’t even look back as the dead Luminark soldier caught fire, joining the other dead guards.
“Did you get all the bolts?” I asked Thomas, who was leading the squad.
We couldn’t afford to leave any evidence.
He nodded, “Yes, Dark Lord.”
“Spread the rest of the pitch,” I instructed him, the air already growing foul with thick, black smoke. “Then hurry back to the rendezvous point. I’ll cover you.”
He nodded, then gathered his squad. I rai
sed the megaphone one last time and channeled every remaining bit of magic I had into it. The roar that emanated from it couldn’t raise the dead, but it came close. The flames were pushed back by the noise, their flickering tongues shaking from the blast.
As I turned and ran, I saw the entire hilltop was aflame. Our campaign had begun, and it would only end with our prisoners liberated, Sanderson dead, and his camp in ruins.
By the time we met up, everyone was covered in soot, pitch, and blood. Doing a quick headcount, I confirmed all our soldiers had returned safely. Checking, we also confirmed all the bolts used were accounted for; hopefully, we had left no evidence of our actions behind, and the fearful Luminark would blame the incident on their new nemesis, the dragons.
“Well done,” I congratulated them, using all the false bravado I could to hide the tremble I felt running through my throat. “But remember, today is just the beginning. We shall make the Luminark Empire pay for their cruelty and their transgressions against our people. We shall not give them a moment’s peace, from this point onward they shall only experience terror and fear.”
Vexile nodded. “What we did today marks the beginning of our campaign to take back this land for Duskhaven. And it will not end until every Luminark occupier is dead or fled.”
“Wasn’t that a bit --” Nichessa searched for the right words as we marched back towards the abandoned mine, “-- too much?”
I shrugged, feeling exhausted and on edge. Despite my earlier affirmation, my thoughts kept running back to the Luminark soldier and the look of shock he had worn right before he had died.
“It was a big jingoistic,” I admitted, “but when these soldiers return home, they’ll spread the word of what happened here. Not just our victory over the Luminark, but your arrival as the Second Queen and the magic we used in our fight. All that will inspire our people, give them hope, and the courage for the future.”
“I feel like I slept on a pile of rocks,” Vexile complained the next morning, as she flexed her back and tail, trying to stretch her sore muscles.
“You did,” Nichessa grumbled from my other side, as she tossed a small pebble away.
I had been greatly pleased by our impromptu sleeping arrangement, but I decided to keep that secret to myself.
We had retreated to the abandoned mine. Packing up our tents, we had erased any signs of our presence and hidden underground. Nichessa had carved a small side cavern for us, then concealed its entrance.
Once we had confirmed we were safe, we all fell asleep, utterly spent from the night’s events. I was afraid that I would have nightmares about what I had seen and done, but with Nichessa’s warmth on one side of me and Vexile’s scales on the other, I slept dark, peaceful dreams.
“What’s the plan for today, Dark Lord?” Garnet asked.
“Building more brimstone bombs,” I told her. “Nichessa, do you have spare canvas and tarps in one of your safehouses that we can use?”
She nodded, then pointed towards Garnet, “I’ll show you and your soldiers where they are.”
“Thank you,” I said, before addressing the larger group. “For now, we’re constrained to operating at night, where we can play upon the Luminark’s fears. I predict they’ll step up their nightly patrols, at least for now, so we must be cautious. We’ll launch another attack tonight, and hit Sanderson where he’s most vulnerable.”
Matteo and Jeanie’s information about the labor camp proved to be invaluable to our next strike.
The following night found us concealed on a narrow ledge by the southern edge of the camp, watching the Luminark troops as they nervously manned the walls of their holdfast. The execution grounds had been left as a burnt ruin, a stark reminder of what had happened the night before. There were far more guards on duty, and we saw mounted patrols moving outside. I noticed several of those assigned to the walls were actively smoking on duty, while others skipped or shortened their routes to keep closer with their peers.
We made careful note of all their movements. Vexile recorded everything, like when patrols passed certain sections of the wall, which guards tended to slack off on their duty, and how often shift changes were made.
It was just before dawn, as the wall guards were switching out and the patrols were on the far side of the camp, when we struck. Once again raising our horns and thunder sheets, we used the noise as a diversion as Nichessa, Garnet, and a small squad raced up towards the camp’s perimeter. As the Luminark tried to pinpoint our location, Nichessa hurled the bombs over the walls in high, arching angles.
Right into the field that Sanderson used to grow his narcotics.
Cries of panic quickly filled the camp, and I saw that several Luminark squads were roused from their beds, racing to save their crop of dreamwisp and other vices. But the brimstone bombs did their jobs, and the crops were quickly reduced to nothing but cinders.
From our vantage point, I took a hard, flinty joy at the sight of several guards coughing and collapsing as they were overcome by the fumes produced by the bombs’ smokey flames.
Nichessa hurled the last bombs, aiming towards a nearby warehouse, before we faded into the smoky gloom. The retreating soldiers ignited more pitch, creating a wall of flame that covered their escape.
Matteo, who had come to witness the strike, watched the narcotics field burn with a dark, satisfied expression.
“That whole place should burn,” he whispered.
“Soon,” I told him, “but let us truly make their lives hell before we do so.”
We launched more attacks over the following nights, moving under the silvery light of the waning moons.
Twice we attempted to burn down their warehouses, only the desperate efforts of the guards prevented them from going up in flames. We also hit the walls themselves, slathering them in pitch before Nichessa ignited them with our bombs.
Raiding their agriculture fields, we stole as many vegetables and crops as we could carry before we put them to the torch.
Each time we attacked, we lit as many fires as we could, attacking from the shadows when the guards least expected it.
The Luminark got no quarter, no peace, as long as the sun was set. Vexile and I took turns harassing them with our horns, sending them into panicked jitters with their draconic cries. Sanderson ordered patrols to investigate every incident, but thanks to Nichessa’s skill in shaping stone, we could easily slip away by opening passages and boltholes, avoiding their increasingly desperate attempt to find the source of their torment. We would rest and resupply at one of her nearby safehouses, then strike again, moving like ghosts through the foothills.
After five days, a good portion of the labor camp was charred black, and the air constantly stank of brimstone. Several guards had been killed, and those that remained appeared as little more than nervous wrecks, constantly peeking over their shoulders and shuddering at the first noise they heard. The outlying mineshafts and survey sites were hastily abandoned, their entrances sealed shut, as the Luminark withdrew to the perceived safety of their walls.
“Are you sure there are no prisoners in the tunnel?” I asked Vexile.
She nodded, “Just four guards, I can tell because they’re wearing boots. All the prisoners are barefoot. I think the guards use the spot to hide while on duty.”
Even though we could not act openly under the daylight, that did not mean we were idle while the sun was up. Working with Nichessa and Vexile, we decided to strike at the mines themselves. We had to be careful though, it would be incredibly easy to have an attack against the Luminark accidentally hurt or kill our own. The prisoners and their safety were our top priority.
So Vexile, with Nichessa as a guide, scouted through the caverns, looking for isolated groups of Luminark in the mine tunnels above. Meanwhile, I worked with Garnet to gather more supplies for our guerrilla warfare, collecting cloth from Nichessa’s safehouses and harvesting more pitch and sulfur.
Once my queens were ready, we prepared our offensive.
Wiggli
ng out of the small hole Nichessa had bored through the stone, Vexile said, “They’re right above us, about ten meters or so.”
We were in a remote section of the natural caverns, below a region of the mines that supposedly was abandoned years ago after the mineral veins were spent. Vexile had sensed tremors in the earth, indicating the tunnels were still in use, and Nichessa had created a path for her to sneak in and investigate.
I loaded chunks of freshly mined sulfur and a bucket of pitch onto the pile of kindling. We all pulled our cloth masks on.
“Nichessa, once the smoke is going, you’ll need to seal the hole,” I dusted off my hands. “The last thing we want is to be killed by our own weapon.”
Once ready, we ignited the flames, which quickly began producing thick, acrid smoke. Nichessa shaped a crude chimney around the fire, and the air was sucked through the hole, back into the mine tunnel, and towards the four unsuspecting guards.
We sealed the whole thing shut after we started hearing their fearful cries and painful coughs echoing from above.
Three more times we did the same thing, waiting for Luminark guards to be away from their prisoners before we filled the tunnels with choking smoke.
“They’ve pulled everyone out of the tunnels,” Garnet reported, once we returned to the abandoned mine. She had been stationed outside the labor camp, along with her soldiers, using the spyglass to watch for the Luminark’s reaction. “Everything has been shut down, and the prisoners have been confined to their cells.”
“Perfect,” I nodded.
Knowing that the prisoners were gathered in one place made it far less likely that we would accidentally injure them with our next strikes. I still planned on weakening the Luminark further, before going in for the finishing blow.
“Dark Lord,” another soldier raced into our hiding spot, “a large group of mounted troops just left the camp.”
Urging him to slow down, he repeated what he had seen.
“Up to twenty soldiers, most of them mounted on dodos, but a few on foot, just left the base, heading south.” He described their hasty muster, how they had raided a nearby warehouse and stable, then departed in a rush. More interestingly, he said that Sanderson had appeared a few minutes after they left, apparently in a fit of rage.