by AZ Kelvin
“If anyone objects they can come and see me here,” Praven said with a wave around the room. “A squad of the dreyg will escort you.”
“Y-yes, my lord. I’ll go now.”
“No. First, you will scribe a letter to Lord Nemilos.” Praven motioned him to a chair at the central table.
Lenistrat tiptoed over what was left of the bodies of King Traelin Tavish and the former first chancellor. He sat down and brought out his writing packet.
“Lord Nemilos, it is my duty to inform you of several setbacks in our occupation of the northern continent. I accept full responsibility for our failures.”
Praven waited for the scribe to catch up.
“I have received word Disciple Onidra has been captured in the Cealjin Delta and executed in the Vakerian capital city of Hearth’s Port. Vakerian military forces now gather along the eastern border of Shaan.”
Praven waited, Lenistrat wrote.
“Our forces in Drifting Leaf have been unsuccessful in completing our mission. The druids have reversed the effects of the shadow parasite infusion. The manner of reversal is unknown at this time. More parasite hulls are being grown and will be ready in a week’s time. Mercenaries are being mustered to return and reclaim the watershed. Commandant Kwyett of the dreyg has been killed in the field. A new commandant will have to be appointed.”
Praven paused a moment to think.
“A dispatch detailed the loss of Glen Arwe and the defeat of the dreyg forces stationed there,” he continued. “MacRory military forces now control Grannagh Province. King Renalth is mobilizing his armies along the border of Raskan and Shaan. We now have threats from both Vakere in the east and Raskan in the north.”
Praven watched while the scribe wrote.
“King Traelin and the royal council have been eliminated and the dreyg have control of the capital city. Teivas Keihas is now our central base of operations. The port and surrounding waters are in our control and our ships stand guard at the harbor entrance.”
Praven considered one final item.
“Prince Travell has eluded capture and with Traelin dead must now be considered a king in exile. Gone but best not forgotten. I anticipate certain military commanders and loyalists will follow his banner should it be risen in rebellion to our control. I will see him in chains before long.”
At last, he peered over Lenistrat’s shoulder and dictated his final reassurances to Lord Nemilos.
“Regardless of the setbacks,” he said, “I believe we can hold Trossachsmuir long enough for our subterranean forces to achieve the primary goal in the northeast.”
He looked over the letter as Lenistrat finished writing.
“Your servant—Praven,” he said to close. “Seal it and send it by dreyg courier.”
“At once, Lord Praven.”
“Then see to the warrant on Travell,” Praven said.
“Yes, my lord.” He turned to leave.
“Lenistrat.”
“My lord?”
“Mention any of this to anyone and I will drain the life force from your wife and children.”
He began to tremble again, “U-understood, m-my lord.”
“You may go.”
“Gratitude, my lord.” Lenistrat hurried from the chamber.
Pravus walked to the southern balcony of the tower, looking toward Trossachsmuir’s harbor and, far beyond sight, his homeland. Every day, he felt damp and sticky in the moisture-laden air of the coastal city. He longed for the desert, yet the longing irritated him because it was a distraction from his duties. He was angry already at having to deal with the failure of the other disciples.
A knock at the door preceded a dreyg officer announcing visitors.
“Prince Kazim Fahdlam and Commander Marza Malent to see you, Lord Praven.”
“Show them in,” he said.
Kazim and Marza entered the chamber, both showing signs of their escape from Raskan and the journey to Trossachsmuir.
“Kazim, you were just on my mind.”
“Hmm, cheery thought, that. You have been enjoying yourself, haven’t you?” Kazim asked when he saw the bodies of king and council lying about the room. “You really must learn to control your temper, Praven.”
“I have control of my temper, Kazim. Especially when I must bear the burden of Disciple Onidra, who failed and lies in ashes in Hearth’s Port, and of another disciple who was sent running like a cur from Raskan with his tail tucked tight between his legs.”
Kazim lost control of his own temper. “I needed more time!”
“You are a fool!” Praven said. “You sat back and waited until Renalth swept in and destroyed your forces like a desert village in a sandstorm.”
“I don’t know how Renalth managed to move an entire battalion into Glen Arwe without detection,” Kazim replied.
“Why did Lord Nemilos endow you with the powers of a disciple, Kazim? You are nothing more than a façade of strength hiding incompetence.”
“You are calling me incompetent?” Kazim asked. “I am not the one who had an entire watershed stolen from under his feet.”
Praven turned an angry look on Kazim. “The watershed is a diversion! The occupation of Shaan is a diversion! Tell me, what are the goals of our efforts here?” Kazim remained silent. “Tell me!”
The muscles of Kazim’s jaw stood out then relaxed. “Our goals are to weaken the powers of the goddess Na’veyja, to isolate the druid conclave, and to divert attention from the northeast corner of the northern continent until our main objective is achieved.”
“It is your indulgences that have brought about your failure, Kazim, and because of it Raskan and Vakere can still come to the druids’ aid. We must now work even harder to buy the time necessary.”
Kazim poured a glass of port from a decanter on the table along the wall. He offered it to Praven first, who simply stared back at him. He then offered it to Marza, who had picked a spot far from the two of them when they first arrived and had stayed there quietly ever since. She shook her head. Kazim shrugged and drained the glass himself.
Praven stood there with crossed arms, studying Kazim as he finished the glass.
“What do you need of me, Praven?” he asked.
“The subterranean forces have finished their tunneling through the lithosphere and are nearly ready to collapse the structure.”
“Have they reached the magma chamber?”
“Yes.” Praven leaned over the map table and focused on the druid conclave at the top right-hand corner of the northern continent. “This entire region will become an instant caldera of molten rock. The frozen lands of Kalnu are close, but they are separated by this mountain range.”
“And my part in your plan?” Kazim asked.
“Take an insertion force and stop any supplies or aid from getting through here.” Praven pointed to a crossroads farther east than Glen Arwe.”
“You want me to go back from where I was just routed from?” Kazim asked.
“Your penance for your failure to remain there,” Praven said. He turned around in time to see Kazim right behind him and reaching out to drain him.
Praven could feel his life force being pulled from his body. He struggled to maintain possession, but Kazim’s attack was too fast. Praven was not only losing the battle for his spirit, all of his powers as a disciple would now belong to Kazim.
The look of satisfaction on Kazim’s face turned to a grimace of pain. The draining stopped when Kazim spun to face Marza, backhanding her to the floor. Her dagger was still sticking from his back. He reached his hand out and began to drain Marza to death.
Praven drew upon his powers as a Disciple of Nemilos and locked on to Kazim’s life force. He drained Kazim slowly, enjoying every moment. Kazim’s glossy hair fell to the floor as the life force left his body. His skin shriveled until it was ashen and wrinkled. Praven focused his attack on Kazim’s powers and ripped them away. Kazim’s limbs became twisted and grotesque. His legs buckled and he dropped to the floor. When
Kazim’s powers transferred over to him, Praven stopped.
Kazim moaned in pain as he tried to move his crippled limbs. Cloudy white eyes still held anger even as he searched for his enemy. Praven walked to his side. Kazim tried to grab him, but the gnarled fingers would not open.
“I—curse—you…” Kazim could barely form the words.
“Spit your empty curses, Kazim. They mean nothing.” Lord Praven crossed the chamber to help Marza to her feet, but she was already up.
“Guards!” Praven said.
The dreyg guardsmen entered and looked at the moaning horror writhing on the floor, who was dressed in the prince’s clothing.
“Remove him,” Praven told them. “Have him stripped and thrown in a defecation pit at the piggery.”
“Yes, my lord,” they replied and hauled Kazim away.
“Why?” Praven asked when the guards had left.
“I was chosen to train as a disciple,” Marza answered.
“Until?”
“Until Kazim replaced me.” Her look turned sour. “My powers were taken from me and I was assigned a commission as a commander in the dreyg.”
“A far cry from being a disciple,” Praven said.
“Yes, my lord.”
“Your skin color and speech tell me you are from the Kajiji region of the southern continent. Am I correct?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“These cold northern lands are a long way from the comforts of home, are they not?”
“Indeed dey are, my lord.”
“Perhaps the benefits of being Dreyg Commandant Marza Malent will ease some of the discomfort.”
The look that flashed across her face gave him the answer he needed, but he waited to gauge her reaction.
“Indeed dey would, my Lord Praven.”
He saw she was careful enough not to assume she had been given the position without hearing it.
“Congratulations, Commandant Malent,” he said.
“My gratitude, Lord Praven.” She bowed formally. “I will prove my value.”
“The efforts to distract the druids and the lords of Arden must continue without delay.”
“Understood, my lord,” she said.
Praven knew he must not fail. “The weak link of Trossachsmuir is the south side facing the bay. The gates have stood open for decades. See to it they are closed and manned from now on. Bring masons and iron workers to reinforce the walls.”
“It will be done, my lord.”
“Soon our forces will achieve their goal and we will return to our homelands triumphant.”
“I look forward to de day we can return home, my lord, but dere is much to be done before dat day comes.”
“Indeed, there is.” Praven looked out over the bay and the sea beyond. “Send for our sea captains, Commandant. We have plans to make.”
*~*~*
Chapter Seventeen
Every moment since their return to Cammachmoor a day and a half ago, Grove Seven had been debriefed, spoken to, and interviewed by more people than they could count. Meetings with the Lords of the Raskan royal houses ran into conferences with druids who answered a summons from Kenri. The tale of Drifting Leaf was told a dozen times over at every meeting.
Quinlan rose early on the morning of their third day back. The grove joined Ronni to eat and then met with King Renalth, his Ministers, and a small group of druids Kenri had formed into a council of sorts.
“I say we move troops ta the far side of Driftin’ Leaf in order ta protect the watershed from those dreyg bastards returnin’,” Renalth said.
“Nae sayin’ yer wrong ta do so, Sire,” Modgrin replied, “but ’twould name ye invader in the eyes of some.”
“Ni, not invasion—liberation,” Therin said. “I guarantee there’s ni Shaanlander happy about the enemy destroyin’ our homeland.”
The Shaanlanders among them, who sat around the table, agreed with Therin.
“Many would even join a liberatin’ force comin’ through,” Cassae said.
Renalth’s General of the Armies, Clennen Gilburl said, “A communique sent from Field Marshal Brixal informed us he’s movin’ the entire Vakerian regular armies ta the Shaan border. If we can free the northern half of Shaan and coordinate with the Vakerian offensive, we’ll have those shites trapped between us and the sea.”
“There will be more than men, horses, and the engines of war waiting at Trossachsmuir, General,” Kenri said. “At least one disciple is there and perhaps two after your victory over the one in Glen Arwe and the routing of the dreyg from Grannagh Province.”
“When did this happen?” Quinlan asked.
“Just after ye lot left fer Driftin’ Leaf,” Renalth said. “Cleared nae only Grannagh Province but ran them all the way out of Raskan!”
“What of the disciple there?”
“Kazim escaped, Quin, along with his dreyg commander,” Kenri answered. “The things found done to Lord Grannagh and members of the royal family were—horrific.”
Renalth outlined his plan. “Our attack’ll be two pronged. An incursion force’ll move inta northern Shaan and eliminate the chance of our army bein’ flanked. Once we deal with the dreyg, the local militias can defend their own towns and villages as we push ta the south. At the same time, we send troops inta Driftin’ Leaf, but we send druids in with them. Then we’ve steel and mysticism both ta combat whatever comes our way.”
“We are not a folk hardy to the battlefield, Sire,” Kenri said.
“I’ll go,” Wylla replied.
Quinlan noticed Kenri and Wylla locked eyes for a moment before the old druid continued.
“Ours would be a more subtle style of eliminating the opposition.”
“Oh, subtle lot, are ye?” General Gilburl asked. “Subtle, like growin’ an oak tree up a man’s arse, that kind of subtle? Folk fear yer kind of subtle, friend Kenri. All we’d have ta do is spread word a druid walks amon’ our troops and the dreyg’ll be seein’ a druid behind every tree in the woods. They’ll nae be able to han’ their arses over a log and have a shite without fearin’ it’ll be their last! Ha ha!”
Some of the gathered laughed with him, others did not join in. Quinlan saw Wylla smile briefly, but she did not laugh. Renalth did not laugh along either, yet he let the laughter and general dreyg bashing continue for a minute before he brought a stop to it.
“All right, rein it in, Clennen,” he said. “Quiet down, quiet down. I understand Kenri, and havin’ ye at vanguard was nae what I had in mind. I was hopin’ ye’d lay traps with yer roots and vines and use other such trickery. Like those slings ye made fer yer flyin’ fungus balls.”
Kenri nodded and indicated some of the druids at the table. “We’ve developed blowpipes and darts tipped with spinose thorn among other items effective from a distance.”
Quinlan looked at Chyne, who knew what he asked and nodded her approval. “We druids stand as children compared to the abilities of the Gwylari. It is they who teach us.”
“The farmers?” Clennen asked.
“Farmers, General Gilburl?” Ronni asked and pointed to Chyne. “This wee lass conjured a stingin’ nettle out of the ground and sent a man runnin’. What do ye think a group of them are capable of?”
Many of the people were startled when decorative plants around the room suddenly doubled in size. Surprise turned to unease when ivies twisted together into a green-leafed tentacle snaking its way over the table. The green ivy serpent spiraled down to the water decanter and refilled Chyne’s glass before receding back to their planters.
“Well now, ’twas impressive indeed, lass.” Renalth looked around the table as he continued. “The Gwylari and the druids can use their woodcraft ta slip around unseen and harass the enemy’s flanks and eliminate their signalmen. That’ll cause a great deal of confusion when the vanguard officers are cut off from their battle commanders. Our main army’ll push forward in a coordinated attack with the Vakerians until the vanguard breaks and we take the field in victory.”
The discussion continued with ideas from both sides about what they might find and how best to deal with it. The morning passed and the meeting ended with a positive attitude toward the events ahead.
Cassae took Quinlan's arm as Grove Seven left the meeting hall. “I hear the Queen is gonna plant a loom saplin’ in Freyn’s honor at the memorial.”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“Which is bein’ held in the Queen’s Garden.”
“Yes, it is.”
“In about an hour.”
“Yeees,” he said while he looked at her out of the corner of his eye.
“Just enough time for a walk through the garden before it starts, don’t ya think?”
The only answer was, “Yes, of course there is.”
“I believe we’ve waited lon’ enough,” she said and kissed him openly for all to see.
“Oooh,” Chyne said and laughed happily.
“Well, it be about time, I say,” Sovia said. “I don’t rightly know how the two of you have held off this long.”
“We’re off to the garden,” Cassae said. “Who’s with us?”
“I’ll come,” Wylla said. “It’ll do me good.”
Ronni shook her head. “I cannae. I must don my finery and do my duty as a lady of the castle, but I’ll see ye down there.”
The rest of the grove, planning to attend the memorial planting shortly as it was, all went along to tour the garden.
“Nice of Kenri ta have new clothin’ waitin’ for us,” Cassae said along the way.
Quinlan looked down at his sleeve. “Yes, right down to the correct conclave colors and rank braidings. I am pleased and have expressed our gratitude, yet the former will still have its place among my possessions. A tale told with every tear.”
“Yi, mine too,” she said, “but, I’m happy ta have somethin’ not torn and trail worn for the memorial today.”
“Why dinnae Kenri wear a raiment?” Kian asked.
“He was once a member of the druid council,” Quinlan said. “He spoke out about how the council had come to believe the druids to be the true power of the Great Marsh in place of Na’veyja’s grace. It was said he thought the council had grown too prideful of their conclaves and the rest of Arden was paying the price for their arrogance. The council stripped him of his rank and expelled him from the conclave grounds. I had not thought to question the matter until the time we met Kenri and heard what he had to say.”