Evolve

by Derek Belfield

  Slate chuckled. "Sometimes that's even more vital than pillaging a city." He said fondly.

  Shale gave him an indecipherable glance at the emotion she detected but didn't comment. Slate awkwardly looked away and focused back on the map. He traced a path heading north from the city and towards the forest. "I think you two are missing something important." The Guardians immediately became more alert. Slate continued. "Notice that there isn't a path from Wayward into the Wyldwood. Yet—" He pointed southward—"there's a road that extended from that city to the border of the forest." He waited to see if the gathered individuals would catch on to what he was implying. At their puzzled looks, he continued.

  "Since this is the only path exiting the city from the empire, its safe to assume that this route is one reason the town was built in the first place. It isn't enough that it's on the coast or that it's particularly defensible." He looked up from the map and met the eyes of everyone in the room. "Since we know the perimeter trees used to keep any outsiders from entering the forest just as much as it kept the wood elves in. This path only makes sense for one reason."

  Shale's eyes lit up as she understood what he was implying first. "It is there as a staging point to get here!" She said, proudly. Both Merus and Sumnu shared a horrified look before pouring over the map again. Both quickly came to their own conclusions.

  Merus released the map and sat back in his chair. "Well, we should probably attack it first then." Sumnu stared into the distance, thinking of the ramifications of having a mustering point so near their borders.

  "Agreed." He stated. "I don't like the idea of someone being able to muster a short distance from our occupied territory." He opened the map back up and pointed at the village of Wayward. "This place didn't have enough infrastructure to support a standing army, so I wasn't that concerned at its positioning."

  He pointed south. "This one, however, could be a huge problem. From the scale of this map alone, we know it's probably ten times the size of Wayward. Additionally, resupply by sea is much quicker than by land. If they wanted to attack here, they would be well supported." Shale looked over Sumnu's shoulder. "What's the name of it?" She asked.

  "Bastion," Slate replied without looking.

  Shale snorted. "Well, that's fairly sinister isn't it." She said sardonically.

  Slate laughed out loud. "Yeah, it kind of is he replied."

  Sumnu let go of the map and crossed his arms over his chest. "So, what's the plan?" He asked, gaze fixed on Slate.

  Slate didn't answer immediately. He wanted to give Merus a chance to think through the problem as well. Sometimes being a governor meant making military decisions, and he didn't want Merus' first time to be during a crisis. It was still acceptable for the Guardians to make mistakes this early in the game. However, when the stakes become higher, their inexperience could lead to the death of the people that relied on them. "What do you think, Merus?" He questioned.

  Merus replied with a shake of his head. "This is more your territory than mine. I can help with the internal functions of the Scourge, but I've never been trained for warfare on this scale." He chuckled wryly. "Light's truth, I didn't even like participating in the Reaping." Slate nodded, idly wondering about the new phrase in his vocabulary. Slate was disappointed by his response, but there would be time to train him further.

  Sumnu took the bait instead of Merus. "We should probably send a group of Guardians to scout the city, report back, and then make a better plan." Slate knew that the Guardian was on the right track, but he didn't understand how to utilize his various forces to their greatest effect. The Guardians were great woodland scouts, but they weren't prepared to collect information on something as complicated as a town. None of them had the experience, and they weren't a replacement for a proper army. Eventually, they would become something approximating a domestic police force. However, he didn't have any other military units until more of the Scourge hatched.

  Slate wordlessly looked over at Shale to see if she had anything to add. She shook her head as well. "I know about one-on-one combat. I could probably best you both at once now that I have the same advantages. However, I know nothing about large-scale battle." She shrugged as if embarrassed. "How could I? The wood-elves have never left the forest to participate in that kind of fight."

  Slate realized that these kinds of things would have to fall to him for the short-term. "Alright, that's fine." He said. "Here's what we'll do." He gestured to himself and Shale. "We'll go scout out the city a couple of days in advance of a party of Guardians. During that time, we'll be able to assess the defenses and probably find a discreet way inside."

  Merus interrupted. "How many Guardians do you intend to take?"

  Slate frowned imagining how large the city was. "At least a hundred," he said.

  Merus coughed. "That's half of our force. You would be leaving Lighthaven woefully unprotected."

  Slate was pleased Merus was willing to question authority to protect his charge. "I know," Slate said calmly. "But streetfighting is a dirty business. I would want to send everyone if it weren't for their ability to sense mana. I hope that we can sneak in, incapacitate their defenses, and then abscond with as many slaves as we can take."

  "Slavery?" Shale arched an eye ridge. Slate met her eyes. "Yes. We need a labor force, and the Guardians are unwilling to do the work that they consider to be beneath them."

  Shale looked surprised, and Merus broke in. "It's true. They won't make armor, work leather, or fletch arrows. All they're interested in is hunting, and we need more than that if we're going to become more than a simple forest village."

  Shale sighed. "We said that we would be freeing our people from the elder's slavery." She paused as emotion quavered in her voice. "How are we any better than them if we do the same with someone else's people?" She looked embarrassed and stuttered. "D—don't get me wrong, I don't mind killing anyone who needs killing, but slavery is something different. I'd rather be dead."

  "We don't have much of an option." Slate began, but Merus interrupted him. "Actually, Heritor, we do." It was Slate's turn to look confused. Merus hurried to explain. "This chamber doubles as a ritual chamber, as you noticed before. Its purpose is to convert people into other races." He gestured to the wading pool in front of the throne. Slate had forgotten all about it. It had become just another oddity about the pyramid.

  "That pool allows a sentient to enter a Covenant with the Lord of Light. They don't become Guardians, but they do gain her blessing and become a creature similar to Guardians without their combat affinities."He continued on. "We think it's part of a caste system designed by the Lord of Light to address this exact issue. Their race will become Faithful."

  Slate mused aloud. "The Scourge conquer the world, the Guardians protect it, and the Faithful serve it."

  Merus nodded. "Exactly, Heritor."

  Slate had another concern. "It doesn't seem practical to shuffle a hundred people down here to accept a Covenant with the Lord of Light."

  Merus smiled. "That's true. That's what the large chamber above is before. It can place the Covenant on a multitude of people. This chamber is only necessary if they want to become Guardians." He continued. "Additionally, the Guardians have a spell called Binding Light. We've tested it over the last day and it's a pretty useful spell. It creates chains from brilliant light. It serves two purposes. First, it can restrain an opponent, and it has a mild mind control effect. It makes an individual more passive and responsive to commands. It doesn't last long and needs to be refreshed often, but the Guardians can use it to quell domestic disputes without violence and help manage potential converts.

  Slate was impressed. "What's the second effect?" He asked.

  This time Sumnu spoke. "It can banish negative spirits and supernatural maladies ."

  Slate spared him a glance. "That seems vague."

  The Guardian looked embarrassed. "We don't understand it well ourselves. It's only been used on minor spirits in the Wyldwood. We're still trying to u
nderstand what it can do."

  Slate nodded, satisfied at the explanation.

  Shale still seemed to have a problem. "That still seems like a fancy word for slave." She retorted. Slate frowned. "Point taken. He said. "We'll offer them the choice between that and death. We have a pressing need for biomass still, and our whole mission from the Lord of Light is to bring the world under her rule." Shale nodded as she considered the point. "Okay," she said. "As long as we offer them that choice."

  Slate didn't see much of a distinction, and truthfully, he didn't care either way, but if this simple thing would assuage his Consort, then he didn't see the harm in it. "Well, now that is settled," Shale sighed. "I'm going to check on the hatchery.

  Merus stood to his feet and saluted in unison with Sumnu. The reaction made Slate remember his observation from earlier. “Sumnu,” he began. “I don’t need Merus or you to act so obsequious while we’re alone. Additionally, none of the Guardians know how to treat Shale and I. We don’t require groveling or worship. A simple salute or a polite greeting will suffice. It only needs to be done once in a single sitting. We can observe niceties and still get down to business.”

  Sumnu gave the monarch an appraising look. “Very well, my Lord, I’ll see that the information is passed to the rest of the Guardians.”

  Both of the Guardians returned to their seats and Shale sent a feeling of approval through the Scourgemind. Slate merely inclined his head in farewell to his Consort. Shale turned on her feet and exited the chamber. After she passed the threshold, Shale looked over at Merus.

  "Merus, I didn't expect you to agree with me on the slaves."

  Merus merely shrugged. "You haven't interacted with the other Guardians, Heritor. They truly refuse to perform the work that they used to do. It's as if strange magic has clouded their mind and I can only ascribe it to the workings of the Lord of Light." He placed his palms flat on the table and looked up at Slate. "If we could do it any other way I would prefer that, but I don't see how we could. Besides," he said after a short pause. "We've remained isolated from the entire world. The Guardians will naturally not trust another race into their ranks so easily. It would be better for everyone if newcomers converted or died."

  Sumnu laughed. "That's more practical of you than I expected with all your talk of peace."

  Mrus laughed with him. "Well, peace is still the goal," he said. "But what's more peaceful than a world full of Faithful and Guardians to protect them?"

  "What, indeed." Slate agreed. What was left unsaid was the Scourge's place in that idyllic future. If that reality came to pass, then there would be no need for their kind. Worse, the Scourge needed combat. They would rot from the inside if they had to live in perfect peace. Slate idly wondered if Lucidus would send them to other worlds to conquer.

  He shared a smile with Merus, imagining different scenarios. It's possible. Slate thought.

  Chapter 17: Weakening Bastion

  The preparations for the attack on Bastion took less time than Slate had expected. In fact, the next morning, when he had left the pyramid looking for his mate, he had found the party of Guardians waiting on the marshaling ground. Shale was walking the lines of the formation and making corrections to the form and posture of the assembled Guardians.

  They were all cold-eyed and stone-face in matching scaled armor that glittered silver in the morning light. They all were equipped with curved organic-looking silver shields and large sabers that matched the shape of a Scourge tail blade. Slate supposed that they had always been wearing the armor, but he had never really noticed. Now that they were assembled together, their gear looked deadly.

  As Slate neared the formation, the Guardians slammed their right fists into their chests as one, while their shields hung from their left arms. The slamming fists hitting home at the same time, created a sound that reverberated in the empty space. Slate wondered how long the Shale had been drilling them for them to have that type of discipline. From his time in the military, he knew that the maneuver was tricky because a few idiots would always mess it up. He guessed that having preternatural strength and speed probably helped them get the timing down.

  He didn't say anything until his mate had joined him by his side. Like it? She asked through the Scourgemind.

  I do. Did you organize them with any kind of leadership? He asked her. It was more complicated to get a group of people from one place to another than people realized. If there weren't any small unit leadership within this group, then they would wind up losing members as they traversed the forest and as a result, wouldn't be at their full strength when they assaulted Bastion.

  I did. She said proudly. She was both pleased with her accomplishment and about having using context clues to navigate the unfamiliar terminology. I sought out some of the older warriors from before the conversion and created a command structure with the help of Sumnu. Slate was impressed and he said as much to her. She beamed with a mixture of pride and embarrassment. He walked closer to the front of the formation.

  "Guardians!" he began. "Your Lady and I have scouted our territory and gathered intelligence on a foe within striking range of Lighthaven. It exists for no other purpose than to attack our home." He paused to allow the men and women to assess the new information. "As a purely defensive measure, we're going to attack and destroy this target and convert them into the Faithful." He paused and lowered his tone aggressively. "If they refuse to convert, we'll kill them all and use them for biomass."

  His audience remained silent, and that was fine with Slate. He saw determined looks and even a few angry expressions. This speech was merely to inform the troops about what they were getting in to. He wasn't looking for cheers or chants, and honestly, he would have been disappointed by that response. He wanted to convert the Guardians into a force that would be feared the world over. Anything less, wouldn't assure the Scourge safety at home. He wanted nothing but grave determination from them. They could celebrate when the fight was over.

  "My Consort and I, will be going to move ahead of your forces to scout targets for your swords." He smiled, predator teeth on full display. "Listen to your leaders and fight well." As he turned to walk around the formation with Shale following, he heard the Guardians smash their fists against their chests three times in a rhythmic pattern. The sound was intimidating and the perfect send-off. On the final clash of fists, the Scourge leaders dropped to all fours and began to run in a loping gait.

  Unlike their last journey, they didn't use the leaping acrobatic movements that they used to traverse before. Instead, they set a moderate running pace that steadily ate up the miles. Slate found himself lamented that his body was too heavy to be waste energy on the gymnastic stunts. The type of movement was a wildly inefficient way to travel, but it was also a blast. As boring as it was, this way would get them there faster while using less energy.

  Logically, this would allow them to collect more information on their target before their Guardians were put in harm's way, but Slate didn't have to like it. By the time the sun had reached its zenith, they had reached the perimeter of the Wyldwood. They halted at a span of farmland that stretched into the distance. Looking afield, the predators noticed farmers harvesting their plentiful crops. Shale was feeling peckish herself and slavered over the potential prey with naked greed. She looked at Slate with an unasked question. No, he replied. If we kill them all now, we'll be alerting their guard forces. If we stay low, we can remain hidden by the crops, and we can make it to the city unseen.

  Shale shaded her eyes. The city was still approximately five or more miles in the distance. It was demarcated by the stone curtain wall that surrounded it. It was hard to tell from this distance, but her best guess put the defensive structure at fifteen feet. It was oversized for what it was supposedly protecting. Why do they have a wall so high around the comparatively small town? She asked.

  It does seem a little odd to put a wall around this city. He answered. Maybe they have a problem with pirates. His gut instinct told him that
the town was fortified in such a manner to protect it from the Wyldwood. He couldn't quantify the intuition, but it remained. Bastion wasn't located anywhere, particularly significant, and the defenses were positioned to protect it from the woods and not the water.

  Shale shrugged her shoulders, still communicating silently. If you say so. She gave the farms a considering look. This place looks pretty peaceful to me. There probably isn't much of a raiding problem if they can plant their crops this far from the city without worrying. Slate sighed, knowing she was right.