Army of the Dead fl-8

by Richard S. Tuttle

  StarWind remained silent and eventually two soldiers arrived with a caged cart. Zatho instructed the soldiers to grasp StarWind as he removed the freeze spell. StarWind’s hands were immediately bound behind her back with rope, and she was lifted onto the cart. The cage door swung shut and was barred from the outside. Zatho paused to gaze once more at the Sakovan spymaster before he climbed onto the seat of the cart and instructed the soldiers to take him to Premer Doralin.

  StarWind instinctively gazed at her surroundings as she was carted deeper into the encampment. She took small comfort in the fact that her body had not been searched. Although she had left her sword with Goral, she still possessed numerous stars and knives secreted in various places. All she needed was a chance to get her hands on one of them, and she would deprive Zatho of his intended pleasure.

  Eventually, a large tent came into view, and StarWind knew that they had reached their destination. The cart halted in front of the large tent, and Zatho climbed off the seat and marched to the rear of the cart. Several soldiers immediately converged at the rear of the cart and opened the door to the cage. They hauled StarWind out of the cage.

  “I wish to present her to Premer Doralin,” declared Zatho. “She is a Sakovan spy.”

  The soldiers ignored the mage as half a dozen hands began roving over StarWind’s body. The Sakovan spymaster cringed as each knife and star was discovered and tossed to the ground.

  “Does she know magic?” asked one of the soldiers.

  “I do not know for sure,” admitted Zatho, “but I highly doubt it.”

  “We take no chances with the premer,” retorted the soldier as he placed a heavy black sack over StarWind’s head. “You may enter the tent, Zatho. We will bring the prisoner in as soon as Premer Doralin requests her.”

  The mage nodded and marched into the premer’s tent. Doralin was in a meeting with a large group of generals. He looked up with annoyance at the intrusion.

  “Pardon the interruption, Premer,” smiled Zatho, “but I thought you should be made aware immediately. I have captured a Sakovan spy.”

  The premer’s annoyance instantly gave way to curiosity. “Bring him in immediately,” ordered the premer.

  “It is a she,” corrected the mage as he signaled to the soldiers outside the flap.

  Doralin nodded as he turned his attention back to the generals. “I think this meeting can be concluded now,” he said with finality. “Think about what I have said and bring me your recommendations as soon as possible.”

  Most of the generals nodded and turned to leave the tent as StarWind was dragged in.

  “What about our supplies?” asked one of the generals before leaving. “Food is starting to run out. When will our next shipment be?”

  “Soon,” Premer Doralin replied distractedly as he watched the Sakovan being brought in. “We have had to take extra precautions to eliminate the chance of any more poisonings. Duran is now staffed by over a thousand men to protect the food. Our first shipment should be arriving in just a few days.”

  The general nodded and joined the others leaving the tent. StarWind was led to a chair and forced to sit down. She was swiftly tied to the chair to prevent her escape.

  “Is she magical?” asked Premer Doralin as he walked away from the table and stood in front of the captive.

  “We don’t know,” shrugged Zatho. “Your men put the sack on her head just in case.”

  “She had quite an assortment of weapons on her body,” offered one of the soldiers. “Still, we do not like taking chances with your life.”

  “Understandable,” nodded the premer, “but I want to gaze upon her. Remove the sack.”

  The soldier moved hesitantly, but he obeyed the order. He removed the special sack from StarWind’s head, but he remained poised to immediately replace it. The premer stared at StarWind for several moments before speaking.

  “You are quite an attractive woman,” stated the premer. “What is your name?”

  StarWind toyed with the idea of refusing to talk, but she knew that the torture would gain the Motangans whatever knowledge they desired. She decided to be cooperative up to a point.

  “My name is StarWind,” the Sakovan spymaster replied. “May I assume that you are Premer Doralin?”

  “I am,” the premer smiled. “You certainly appear calm in your current situation. May I presume that spying is something that you have done for some time?”

  “It is my vocation,” nodded StarWind. “Or should I say was?”

  “You are eager to taste death?” asked the premer.

  “No one is eager for death,” shrugged StarWind, “but I know when I have failed my mission. I know that you will never let me leave this camp alive.”

  “True,” nodded the premer, “but I may allow you to live within the camp, providing you tell me what I want to know.”

  “Premer Doralin,” cautioned Zatho, “do not trust this woman. She will try to take her own life to avoid giving us the information that we want. Let me extract the information from her. You know that I never fail to get what we want.”

  “Your talents are well known, Zatho,” nodded the premer, “but I will give this woman a chance to avoid the needless pain of your interrogation. She is such a beautiful creature that I am hesitant to watch you disfigure her.”

  “There is little that I can offer you no matter which method of interrogation you choose,” interjected StarWind. “I told you that I was a spy and have been so for many years. My task was to spy on the Omungans before they were defeated. As such, I spent my life in the Omungan cities plying my trade. There is much that I can tell you about those cities, but I fear that is not the type of information that you are seeking.”

  “I am sure that there is much that you can reveal,” smiled Premer Doralin. “You know enough of the geography of the Sakova to find our encampment. My maps could use much updating in that regard. Are you willing to disclose what you know without torture?”

  “I will reveal what I can,” nodded StarWind, “but there is little that I can offer in terms of Sakovan secrets. The Star does not confide in me.”

  “She is faking her cooperation,” Zatho blurted out. “She will fill you with lies and misinformation. Only my methods will get to the truth. Do not be tricked by her pretty face.”

  “I suspect that you are right, Zatho,” sighed the premer. “Still, I am tempted to give her a chance. The armies are not marching today, as they need their rest before another major battle. I will give the Sakovan only this day to tell me what I need to know. If I am not satisfied by morning with her level of cooperation, I shall turn her over to you.”

  “You must keep the sack on her head,” warned Zatho. “She might have magical abilities.”

  Premer Doralin sighed and nodded to the soldier beside StarWind. The soldier placed the sack over StarWind’s head, and the Sakovan spymaster knew that she would not be able to talk her way out of her predicament.

  Chapter 11

  Making a Stand

  Lord Rybak stood on a rise west of Raven’s Point, large columns of smoke rising high in the sky as the Khadoran fields burned to deny the enemy any food. Through the smoky haze he watched the Motangan boats still pouring fresh troops onto the shore. He slowly moved his gaze closer to the rise that he stood on and saw the Situ cavalry engaging the vanguard of the Motangan army. Mounted Situ soldiers charged the Motangan lines in an attempt to slow the advance, but the red-uniformed soldiers continued to push steadily westward.

  “What is the situation in the north?” Lord Rybak asked.

  “Lord Saycher has retreated,” replied Polema. “His people are safely over the first trench, and he has destroyed the northern bridge spanning it.”

  “And the Motangans up there?” asked Lord Rybak.

  “They are not pursuing Lord Saycher,” advised the air mage. “He suspects that they have turned south to flank our troops.”

  “He suspects?” snapped Lord Rybak. “That is not acceptable. Contact him
again and tell him to get scouts out. I must know where those Motangan troops are heading.”

  Lord Rybak returned his attention to the battle below while Polema contacted Lord Saycher. He saw his cavalry harassing the enemy, but the solid sea of red uniforms all the way to the coast ensured that he would have to retreat soon. Already the cavalry losses were easily visible.

  “He already has scouts out,” Polema interrupted his thoughts. “He just hasn’t heard back from them.”

  Lord Rybak thought about ordering more scouts to be sent out, but he knew there was not time for that.

  “What of our own evacuation?” he asked Polema. “Did you find out what is holding up the retreat?”

  “It is the mages,” Polema reported softly. “Many of them are not as physically fit as the soldiers are. They cannot move swiftly. They have the central bridge clogged, and the infantry is behind them. It will be hours before they are safely across the trench.”

  “We don’t have hours,” scowled Lord Rybak. “Our cavalry is being decimated. If we can hold another hour, that will be the best that we can do.”

  “Should I advise them to destroy the bridge in an hour?” asked Polema.

  Lord Rybak stood silently for a long time, his eyes viewing the carnage below. Finally, he sighed heavily and shook his head.

  “Order the southern bridge destroyed immediately,” instructed the Situ lord. “At the center bridge, our infantry soldiers are to bypass the mages. They are to jump into the trench. Have the men on the other side of the trench lower ropes for them to climb out. As soon as the last mage crosses the bridge, destroy it.”

  “What if the Motangans arrive before that?” asked Polema as she wove an air tunnel to the central bridge.

  “The bridge must be denied to the Motangans,” declared Lord Rybak. “Regardless of costs, that bridge must be destroyed before the Motangans reach it.”

  “I understand,” Polema nodded solemnly.

  Lord Rybak turned to the lectain behind him. The officer snapped to attention when he felt his lord’s eyes upon him.

  “There will be a change in plans,” stated Lord Rybak. “We are going to try to draw the Motangans to the south. Order the troops to start edging towards the south with every charge.”

  “That will take the pressure off their northern vanguard,” frowned the lectain. “They might get to the central bridge sooner than desired.”

  “They might,” agreed Lord Rybak, “but that is a chance that we must take. I am gambling that the Motangans are out to destroy as many of us as possible. If the Motangans that landed to the north did not pursue Lord Saycher, it can only be because they want to flank us from the north. If I am correct, the whole Motangan army will turn south to chase us.”

  “Then I pray that you are correct,” saluted the lectain. “Will you be retreating now?”

  “No,’ Lord Rybak shook his head. “I will be riding with you, Lectain. We must delay our enemies for several more hours. If they fail to turn southward, I want to be in a position to change my orders.”

  The lectain smiled and nodded. He bowed slightly to the Situ lord and retreated to his mount.

  “You do not need to ride with them to issue orders,” frowned Polema. “I can do that from anywhere.”

  “Can you also send messages from somewhere that you are not?” questioned Lord Rybak.

  “What do you mean?” Polema asked.

  “Our armies on the other side of the trench must be kept informed of what is happening here,” explained Lord Rybak. “If you and I retreat, that task will remain uncompleted, and I will not retreat and leave you here. Besides, this battle is my responsibility. I plan to exact the maximum amount of damage on the enemy that we are capable of.”

  “Your presence will energize the men,” smiled Polema. “They do look up to you.”

  “I am glad to finally hear that,” smiled Lord Rybak. “I have spent the past few years trying to be like Emperor Marak. While I know that I can never compare myself to him, the love and respect from his men is his hallmark. They idolize him.”

  “You sound envious,” stated Polema.

  “I am,” grinned Lord Rybak, “but not in a bad way. I owe my life to Marak. He took me in when any other man would have killed me for what I did to him.”

  “What did you do?” frowned Polema.

  “I spied on him for the Situ clan,” Lord Rybak said softly. “In fact, I did everything I could to ruin his career.”

  “And the Emperor never found out?” asked the air mage.

  “He knew all along,” chuckled Lord Rybak. “He was always one step ahead of me. I was such a fool then.”

  “I don’t understand,” replied Polema. “If he knew about your activities, why are you still alive?”

  “Because Lord Marak saw something good in me,” replied Lord Rybak. “He saw something that no one else saw. He let me play my games, all the while knowing that I would eventually come around to understanding what he was trying to do.”

  “I guess you did come to understand him,” smiled Polema.

  “More than most people know,” Lord Rybak returned the smile. “After I became convinced that he was right and that I was wrong, I was taken prisoner by Lord Marshal Grefon of the Situ clan. The Situ almost tortured me to death, but Marak came and saved me.”

  “He actually sent an army to rescue you from the Situ army?” gasped Polema. “That could start a war.”

  “He sent no army,” explained Lord Rybak. “He came personally with his two shadows. Lord Marak risked his own life to rescue a reformed traitor. Yes, I envy him, and yes, I try to emulate him. Who wouldn’t after such a rescue? He not only saved my life, but he also gave me a new start in life.”

  “The orders have been given,” announced the lectain as he rode onto the crest of the rise. “Our men will concentrate on the southern vanguard and start drawing them southward.”

  “Excellent,” Lord Rybak responded as he turned to view the battlefield below. “It is time for us to move our observation post.”

  * * *

  Goral rode Bertha into the Sakovan camp, leading StarWind’s empty choka behind him. HawkShadow looked up from his seat at the campfire. Concern etched into his face, and he set his mug of coffee on the ground and rose. SkyDancer, who had been sitting next to the Sakovan assassin, also rose and followed. They caught up to Goral as the giant was tethering the two chokas.

  “Where is StarWind?” asked HawkShadow.

  “She was captured by the Motangans,” Goral answered without inflection.

  “Captured or killed?” asked HawkShadow as other Sakovans began crowding around.

  “I saw her captured,” reported Goral. “I can not say if she is still alive.”

  “You saw her captured?” echoed HawkShadow. “How could you see her captured and not fight to rescue her?”

  “Easy, HawkShadow,” cautioned StormSong. “Goral is not your enemy. He cannot take on the entire Motangan army by himself.”

  “There was nothing that I could do,” Goral explained softly. “She was already well inside the perimeter of the encampment when she was captured. I would never have even reached her before she was hauled away. Do not make me feel worse than I already do. I asked her not to go, but she was adamant about it.”

  “Spying is what she chose to do,” interjected SkyDancer. “No one knew the risks more than StarWind did.”

  “Stop talking about her in the past tense,” snapped HawkShadow. “Goral did not see her killed.”

  “She is as good as dead,” retorted Goral. “StarWind would never allow herself to be interrogated. She would kill herself first.”

  “Did you see where they took her?” asked HawkShadow.

  “I could not,” Goral shook his head. “The Motangan encampment is huge. They put her in a cage and hauled her away. I followed her progress as far as I could see, but their camp is endless. Eventually, she blended into the camp and I could not see her any more.”

  “Was she di
sguised?” asked HawkShadow.

  “She wore one of these,” nodded Goral as he held up a black cloak. “We killed two Motangan mages early in the morning. She used one of their cloaks to gain entrance into the encampment, but then something went wrong. I do not know what it was, but another mage suddenly came up behind her. There were already a thousand men between her and me.”

  HawkShadow’s eyes fell on StarWind’s sword as Goral removed the sheath from his shoulder and leaned it against a tree. He shook his head sadly and departed from the small group and returned to his seat by the campfire. He picked up his cup of coffee and withdrew into himself. He did not even hear SkyDancer approach minutes later and sit down next to him.

  “StarWind will be greatly missed,” SkyDancer said. “Lyra relied tremendously on her advice.”

  “She is not dead yet,” retorted the Sakovan assassin.

  “HawkShadow,” frowned SkyDancer, “face the reality of it. She cannot possibly escape from the Motangan encampment. Besides, Goral is correct. StarWind will kill herself before she reveals anything to the enemy. Too many good people are dying in this war.”

  “That is what wars are all about,” spat HawkShadow. “I will not let these invaders come into our homeland and kill my brothers and sisters.”

  “None of us will allow that,” SkyDancer nodded sympathetically. “Still, you must face the truth when it happens. I feel deeply for Goral. He was very close to StarWind, and he hasn’t gotten over losing SilverEdge yet. You didn’t make him feel any better by suggesting that he should have committed suicide to save her.”

  HawkShadow stared at his partner with confusion. “That is not how I meant it,” he said softly. “I just didn’t understand the situation until he described it.”

  “Well,” shrugged SkyDancer, “that is how everyone took it. It sounded like you were chastising Goral for not rescuing StarWind.”