by D. H. Aire
“Um, nothing, dear,” Lawson replied, realizing that playing the ghostly demon was not going to be as simple this time as he moved his hands to check all the positions of the dagger sheaths on Re’ut’s and Le’ann’s backs and legs.
#
The waters of the Aqwaine River suddenly grew lower and lower downstream. A major branching where none had existed before opened like a fissure, diverting the flow south and east. The bedrock of the river shot upward, blocking the normal southern flow. Had anyone been watching further downstream at that late hour they would have thought the riverbed had swallowed it.
The fissure continued to open as the water poured in a torrent seeking to catch up to it.
#
“Uh, Aaprin,” Gallen cried as Bastian shook. The fountains stopped flowing and the refugees began screaming and shouting.
“Here we go,” Aaprin muttered and, in his role as the Highmage, held his blazing staff high in the air. Bastian began to rise up the side of the Imperial cliff.
#
“Lord du Blain!” the guard cried, running to his well lit pavilion tent, as high overhead a pair of falcs circled.
“I see it, you fool!” he cried, staring from his tent’s entrance, no longer interested in those he was torturing within. The Highmage’s staff blazed.
“Fire the catapults! Fire the bloody catapults!”
One, then another let loose, but it was too late. Bastian had retracted into the Imperial cliff and all the catapult shot fell short, striking bare rock.
He drew his dagger and stabbed the guard, who fell to his knees. “You fool, what took you so long?”
With a gasp of incredulity, he slumped to the ground, his now unfocused gaze seemingly staring at Bastian’s glazing over, turning to solid rock walls of cliff face. The falcs flew apart, one heading east, the other west.
#
The ground rumbled through the Haydenese encampment and for miles beyond. Tents, men and horses were swallowed as a fissure opened. As the mounts and soldiers struggled to rise, water roared down and swept them away.
“Uh, let me guess, that’s the signal?” Re’ut muttered.
Lawson grinned.
“Watch those hands, Milord,” Re’ut said. “Don’t spoil our shots.”
He sighed, “Ladies, it’s time to give those folks nightmares.”
The Cathartans nodded and urged their battle steeds forward. The Fifth Legion followed close behind.
#
“Here we go,” George said. “Sound effects, please.”
“Sound what?” Se’and asked.
Beep?
:Route amplification through available external comms.:
‘Uh, who turned up the tornado?’ Revit shouted over their link.
“What did you say?” Ri screamed.
“Uh, Staff, help them find the mute button,” George suggested, sheepishly.
:The schematics do not precisely help under the circumstances.:
Se’and was covering her ears as the warders stumbled forward, directing the sound forward. A howling wind burst forth, filled with the ripping up of trees by their roots, and a shrieking like a thousand human throats in anguish.
Lawson’s Household began the assault, charging forward out of the night upon the shocked Haydenese, struggling to understand and rescue their lost comrades as a river now ranged through the center of their camp.
#
George and Staff stared at a schematic showing their additional options.
:George, what are you doing?:
“Show full perimeters,” he muttered. “Staff, level two rapport.”
“Je’orj, what are you doing?” Se’and asked as their battle steeds edged back, eyes wide.
“What the hell… I’m,” he stammered as Staff grew brighter.
:George!:
Raven rose on her haunches and helped George keep on his feet as they swayed. Se’and stumbled into them, shouting, “Raven, what’s going on?”
She shook her beast head as archeological data filled both his and her mind as George considered what he was playing at as the earth quaked and a pattern captured in what the elves called Underhill that had been long lost, reasserted itself beyond mere imagery.
The steeds ran off, desperate to get clear of the roiling patches of earth, as rock and stone pushed up out of the ground.
“George!” Se’and cried, staring into his glassy gaze flashing with images of castles and her reflection.
#
The Haydenese corporal gaped. First his sergeant had fallen into the yawning fissure that moments later flooded, becoming a raging river, washing away scores of their fellows. Now the sounds of ghostly shrill voices howled around him.
That’s when he heard the shouts from the rear. He turned and saw the ghosts on giant hell horses bounding over his fellows. It was also the moment, he, like scores of his fellows, got a close look at the ghosts. Several of his fellows raised their swords to confront the demon shape leading them. Glowing arrow tips streaked from it and cut them down.
“Succumbi,” he muttered, seeing what seemed to be a half-naked woman.
The battle steed barreled into the corporal, knocking him so hard he hit the ground a half dozen feet away unconscious.
“He called me a succumbi,” Le’ann rasped. “Thanks.”
The steed glanced about, nickering just as the Haydenese began to rally. The Fifth Legion charged out of the night behind them. Re’ut and Le’ann began shooting arrows at every sergeant and officer they could see as Yel’ane hunkered down and slapped the steed’s reins.
Their mount bolted forward once more.
#
The Haydenese general gaped. Half his men were under attack on what appeared to be the other side of the churning river. The ground began to quake and the general glanced down, “We’ve underestimated the Tanish mages…”
“Sir?” his aide said as they heard the growing noise of the howling wind over the cries of their men.
“We must launch our attack on the city,” the general said too loudly as the ground shook all the harder, “before they have any more ability to confuse what troops I still command.”
His men mounted and abandoned their fellows to what the general’s aide hoped truly was only illusion.
#
The steed fought to keep his feet and reared as the quake worsened. Yel’ane was jostled backward as Lawson fought to keep himself in the saddle. The belts keeping Re’ut and Le’ann in place pulled at Lawson’s belt beyond endurance. It snapped and the two women fell.
Lawson grabbed at both, losing his seat in the process. His fingers snagged their skirts, which ripped. “Oh,” he muttered as the pair fell and Yel’ane tumbled off with him.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Yel’ane cried, indignantly.
His cheek twitching, he heard Re’ut and Le’ann screaming at him.
As the earth stilled, the Haydenese seeing the glowing creature break apart and wailing, they threw down their weapons and surrendered.
Re’ut glanced around and shook her head. “I could kill you for this,” she half whispered.
Lawson muttered, “Uh, sorry” as Le’ann dusted herself off and grabbed what remained of her skirt.
More Haydenese surrendered as the Cathartans rode close on either side of Lawson. Yel’ane shook her head, “Well, what are we supposed to do now?”
He picked her up off the ground and set her on his shoulders. He offered his right hand to Re’ut and his left to Le’ann. They frowned as he strode forward. Haydenese seeing the giant ghost demon walking toward them cringed and fell to the ground, crying surrender.
Yel’ane heard a ripping noise and Lawson cried out. Re’ut dropped his ripped pants on the ground, muttering, “Now, we’re even.”
“Hey,” he murmured.
“Try to look a bit more excited,” Le’ann demanded. “We’re not even in my book.” She glared up at Yel’ane, who swallowed hard.
&
nbsp; The Fifth Legionnaires soon took even more prisoners as the terrifying sight of the naked, very angry looking giant demon, accompanied by his succumbi walking through the moonlight proved too much for them to deal with.
Chapter 46 - A Night to Remember
“Uh, Je’orj, what did you do?” Se’and asked, picking herself up off the stone floor, looking around them as the ground stopped shaking.
George was slumped to his knees, leaning against both Se’and and Raven, who shimmered, her shape shifting back to human norms, but more rounded than that of the girl she had been.
He blinked, feeling exhausted, and muttered, “Oops.”
The doors that had not been there before opened wide as Thomi and Walsh, grinning ear to ear, entered the lower tower chamber. “Je’orj, I mean, Milord,” Thomi said, “the, uh, warders are now atop the parapets of this place.”
Se’and muttered, “Parapets?”
Nodding, Thomi said, “It’s a rather large keep.”
“Not… only… one,” Walsh said. “Warder… Places.”
:Oops.: Staff shared. :I didn’t realize it was stored to this degree in memory as part of the river system design.:
Beep?
:Uh, sorry, we are pausing the game.:
Beep, the node replied, sounding forlorn.
“Je’orj?” Se’and said.
“Ah, yes, apparently there were five warder keeps along this ley line from the Capital,” he replied, “as well as six temple complexes of various sorts and what had been seven estates long in ruins… but, uh, hmm, not any more.”
:You forgot to mention the summer palace.:
“Je’orj!” Se’and shouted, her anklet glowing, her mind filled with a vision of the long abandoned Imperial residence, which now boasted seven tiers of defensive walls that it never had in history, and a small riverside harbor east beside it along the new river bend.
“Uh, oops?”
Raven looked up at him.
“What were you thinking?” she rasped.
:Oh, do tell her, George. After all, that particular area has been rather desolate for two thousand years:
“Thinking? Well, I thought… you and the baby might like the country air.”
She blinked.
“You were going to tell me about the baby, weren’t you?”
She swallowed. “You built us a palace?”
“I wouldn’t call it that. More like a modified keep, recreated from the node’s gaming options.”
Staff projected its image.
“Well, do you like it?” he whispered.
“Oh, Je’orj! I love it!”
:Kissing? What’s with all the kissing? You have a civil war to win!:
Raven moved away a moment, then sidled over and rubbed her back against them and… purred. He added an aviary to the design.
If a computer could wince, Staff would have.
#
“Rexil, exactly what did you just do?” Aaprin muttered after staring down over the parapet at the Northlands far below.
Gallen turned, frowning, “Shannon?”
Neither answered as Cle’or went over to the warder and tapped the robe, which seemed solid.
Ander looked over the edge of the parapet and stared down at the encamped army far below, then shut her eyes, feeling dizzy.
“You all right?” Aaprin said, grabbing her arm to steady her.
“Fine, I think,” she replied.
They joined Cle’or by the motionless warder mage. Aaprin peered in and jerked back. “Oh, my.”
“What?” Cle’or asked as her anklet began to glow.
“Uh,” he replied, glancing meaningfully at Gallen, “they, um, seem to be, uh, occupied.”
Eyes widening, Cle’or muttered, “Oh.”
“Highmage! Highmage!” the remaining refugees and the Legionnaires cheered the length of the parapets and in the courtyard below.
“Take your bow,” Gallen urged.
He did and the cheering grew louder.
Cle’or suddenly blinked and said, “You built me a house?”
“Who?” Ander rasped.
Blinking again, Cle’or said, grinning, “Je’orj.”
The warder suddenly toppled over.
#
In Tane harbor, the moored ships felt a sudden more pronounced rocking of their vessels. Officers and crew, deliberately kept aboard their guarded ships, hurried to the deck rails.
“Captain!” shouted the first officer of the ship that had brought Farrel south.
The Captain saw the waves hitting the hull, knowing they did not herald a storm, at least, not a natural one. “Open the armory. I want every man armed and ready to repel boarders.”
Crewmen scurried.
Aboard one of the neighboring ships, not all their ship’s company raced to the deck. The Haydenese mages were clustered around their scryers, whose bowls of water spilled and at just the wrong moment, obscuring the false visions they were feeding to the Tanish scryers.
The scryers in the city tower suddenly glimpsed Haydenese cavalry heading south, right before the quaking became so bad that their bowls toppled.
“Alert, Lord Tane!”
Aboard the Haydenese ship mages hurried down the plank, warded against being noticed. They ran toward the palace, where a Haydenese agent waited to let them inside through the western postern gate.
#
Lord Tane sidled closer to Farrel, reached over and put his hand on her leg beneath the table. “My dear, please reconsider.”
The city began to quake, which passed moments later.
Farrel blinked, her anklet aglow, catching the image of the palace Je’orj had built for her… them… her. Us, she told herself, knowing Ri’ori would love playing in the gardens. A tear welled, streaked down her cheek.
Lord Tane stared around the hall, which appeared to have taken little harm. The dozen or so remaining statues wobbled a bit, but nothing more. His son looked amused, his dance with Lady Janielle interrupted.
The guests looked about, then began chuckling, realizing everything was fine.
“And here I was getting ready to propose,” Rathian said on the dance floor.
“What?” Janielle rasped.
Tane turned back to Farrel and his eyes widened. She smiled. Glancing down, he saw her dagger jabbed between his legs.
“Consider this my definitive answer to your question,” Farrel said.
The elflord swallowed.
#
Janielle struggled to free her hands from Rathian’s grip. “It is not as if you have any other choice, not if you wish to live, cousin…”
She glared at him.
“Look on the bright side, Kolter will be very put out by our claim to the province he seeks to make his own.”
One of their guards, hefted his sledge-like hammer, glancing in Lord Tane’s direction as he approached the next statue in line, which was taller than most, depicting an elflord. He knew it was time to shatter the next. One of the dwarven servants uncharacteristically came up to him and offered him wine.
“Off with you,” the guard replied, knowing Lord Tane would not be amused.
Spiro sighed, glancing at Renara, who knelt cleaning up a spilled platter. She frowned, sensing it, too. Tett followed his gaze and moved closer to the head table, knowing he had a duty to Lady Farrel.
Everything in Spiro’s being telling him now was the moment, he said, “My pardon.” Making as if to bow, he flicked the wine into the guard’s eyes.
The man grunted.
Spiro added a spelled “push.”
The man dropped his hammer, staggering back. It landed on his foot. He cried out. Spiro ran behind the statue, muttered a spell and vanished as the guard looked around.
He wasn’t the only one.
“Lord Tane! Haydenese soldiers coming to assault the walls!”
“What?” the elflord rasped, trying to rise.
“Do sit down,” Farrel whispered. “You wouldn’t want to ha
ve an unfortunate accident.”
He settled back down, “Order our troops to the walls!”
#
Ethran Seawarden and his men came down from the high tower and found themselves in the upper gallery of Tane’s Great Hall, when the building quaked. Moments later, there were cries of “Haydenese” and “Man the walls!”
Gesturing, his men fanned out, they creeped up to the Tane’s guards at the tops of the stairs, down the great hall and silencing them forever.
#
In the Imperial Capital, the quake did not go unremarked. Lady Esperanza felt the scrying network bounce back into place. She looked into her bowl. Her scryers saw that and raced to their own. She shook her head, rising from her seat, “Re-establish a link to General Winterhil!”
A page went running to Lord Terhun, who was in conference with the Empress and Lord Lyai.
Chapter 47 - The Power of Stone
Lord Tane glared at Farrel, whispering, “Move that blade or I’ll have you killed.”
A dwarf offered him a platter as the officers of his army fled the hall to join their men in defending the city.
The elflord’s eyes widened as he felt a blade pressed up again the back of his neck, “Milady, perhaps you would like to, uh, dance with his lordship?”
Farrel grinned, “Why, that sounds lovely.”
“Dance?” Lord Tane muttered. “You think that dagger is going to make me dance?”
“Oh, no, this occasion calls for something more conspicuous,” she replied.
#
Rathian held Janielle’s left arm tight as the offices headed the call to arms. “Well, matters appear to be proceeding in ways that my father has not foreseen.”
“Kolter is rather determined.”
“So is my father.”
“I’m not marrying you.”
He nodded, “That’s to be seen. Father may find it preferable to killing you.”
“That’s madness.”
“No words more true than that,” Rathian admitted, looking about the room as the remaining guards eyed the guests.
All save one, the guard, his face dripped from the wine splashed on him. Grabbed his dropped hammer, limping, he looked for the dwarf that had done this to him.
That’s when Lady Farrel drew a black bladed sword and placed it at Lord Tane’s throat. Tett moved back as there were screams from the guests and the guards around the rooms bolted toward the dais.