The Shadow of War

by Bryan Gifford

  “So, what would you have us do? March on the rest of Tarsha? If we spread out into each country, we will be too weak to do anything. We may have Kaanos, but we’re still surrounded and outnumbered. They’ll come for us eventually.”

  “That is why we must attack first.”

  “I’m not trying to be negative,” Isroc replied, “but I must agree with Shara. We don’t even know what we’re facing here in Kaanos, let alone the other countries. We don’t know how many Acedens there are or where they’re holding out. We don’t know how many of our own soldiers are out there still fighting, or even how much food we have saved to support the army we have here. Besides, if we go on the offensive, we’d be leaving Dun Ara open to attack.”

  Ethebriel answered. “The Acedens left a generous store of provisions for us. They were stockpiling it seems, and even after numerous caravans east, there is still enough to last our army for a time. Add on the provisions Adriel has gathered, and we should have enough for a short campaign. On the matter of my soldiers, there are three thousand here in Dun Ara. Armeth’s scouts estimate another thirty thousand in the nearby areas. If we rally them to our banners, then we will have over seventy thousand, including Adriel’s Charunite and Vilant. Yes, it will be risky, but we have the strength for such a gamble.”

  The other three looked to each other with mixed expressions. “Now is the time to strike back,” Adriel said. “Too long have we remained on the defensive, clawing and scraping to salvage what is left. We will take it all back in one stroke.”

  “How will we do that?” Silas asked.

  “By hitting them where it hurts.” Adriel looked to each in turn. “We’re going to Markadesh.”

  “That’s the place Ada mentioned, isn’t it?”

  “And Vanthe too,” Isroc added.

  “What is it?” asked Shara. “A fortress or something?”

  “I don’t know,” Adriel admitted. “But before my uncle died, he told me that it was extremely important to Iscarius. His ‘stronghold’ he said. From what I’ve pieced together, it’s a key part of Iscarius’ operation, hidden away in the wilds of Angeled. Likely, he had it built to aid his campaigns in the south. His insurrection was strongest in Inveira and therefore would naturally weaken the farther south it went. So, I think he had it built to prop up his rebellions in Charun and Kaanos. If we take it out, then we take away his control in the South.”

  Shara frowned. “I fail to see how it would cripple him so badly. He’s prepared for this war for centuries, or so you say. Why wouldn’t he anticipate an attack, and why put so much stock into one place?”

  “I can’t say for sure. But I think he’s counting on it to remain hidden to us. No one goes into Angeled, not since the plague that destroyed its empire over a millennium ago. Iscarius needed a stronghold in the South, so what better place to put it?”

  “Great, so we’re just going to walk into a country that hasn’t been occupied in a millennium and just knock on the door of what is probably Iscarius’ greatest stronghold that will no doubt be teeming with hundreds of thousands of his soldiers?”

  “That is exactly what we’re going to do.”

  Shara tossed up her hands.

  “I like it,” Silas said. “Kick them where it hurts. It’s as courageous as it is stupid. Cain would be proud.”

  Adriel fought a smile.

  “It could work,” Ethebriel mused. “Markadesh is where so many of these Aceden caravans have been going, based on the intel Armeth’s men have gathered and the documents we’ve uncovered here in the city. The place is likely heavily defended and well stocked, but if we were to take it out… well, it’d be a tremendous blow to their army.

  ‘Besides, we can’t afford not to attack; ignoring it will allow them ample opportunity to mount another offensive on Kaanos and take back what they’ve lost.”

  Adriel nodded. “Iscarius is gathering a large force there. From my scouts’ reports, he’s been sending caravans of soldiers and supplies and prisoners into Angeled for months.”

  “Prisoners?” Shara asked, perking up.

  “Yes. Prisoners from all over. Including Erias.”

  Shara waved for another goblet and quickly downed it. “I suppose it’s worth a shot.”

  Silas chuckled. “It’s worth more than that. Think about it, if we take Markadesh then all those soldiers would be taken out of the action. All those supplies would be ours. All those prisoners would be free. And plus, Iscarius could be there…”

  The group drew quiet. Iscarius. No one knew where he was. They’d questioned countless Acedens, and all anyone knew was that he went somewhere east. Adriel had a feeling she knew where he’d be.

  “Markadesh is where we need to strike. That is where this all will end.” Somehow, she felt Cain knew that too. That was why he’d left them, or so she told herself. Cain wanted to find Iscarius and kill him. Those two were tied together, and this war would end with one of their deaths. She had to find him before he fought Iscarius.

  Shara eventually spoke, “This is suicide. We’re sticking our neck out just begging Iscarius to nick it off. If we lose this… we lose it all. There’s no recovering. Iscarius will take all of Tarsha and we won’t be able to stop him.”

  Isroc sighed. “Adriel is right, we have to try. It’s a stupid, stupid plan, as tactically suicidal as it is brilliant. If we lose, we’ll lose tens of thousands of people and will never again have the strength to resist. But if we win this fight, we’ll permanently cripple the enemy, maybe even defeat them entirely. And if we manage to kill Iscarius…”

  “Then we end the Acedens,” Ethebriel finished for him. “Their leader will be gone, their largest stronghold destroyed, most of their troops dead or captured.”

  “And their hold on the rest of Tarsha will crumble,” Adriel continued. “Kaanos is as good as ours. Charun is in the middle of a rebellion, and with many of the Acedens gone to Markadesh, my people will take back what is theirs. With Erias and Meres contested as well, it will only be a matter of time before we can reclaim them. Inveira will follow, its Aceden strength dwindled to nothing and without a leader to keep it standing.

  ‘Iscarius has spread himself too thin, relying on surprise and brutality to take control. He has likely realized this by now—that’s probably one of the reasons he’s gathering such a large force in Angeled. He means to counter our advance into Kaanos and carve deeper footholds into the territories he’s already claimed. With him out of the picture, his forces will collapse. This is our chance, our one chance, to defeat Iscarius. There are no other options.”

  “That’s putting an awful lot of faith into whether Iscarius will be there or not,” Shara replied.

  “He’ll be there. And Cain will be too.”

  Silas nodded. “Aye, I wouldn’t be surprised. That man has always been the solemn hero. I’m sure that’s why he left us, he knew that he’d have to face Iscarius alone someday. Iscarius wants Ceerocai for some reason; he won’t stop until he kills Cain and gets that sword. After seeing Cain summon that beast at Brunein, after seeing what he could do at Ekran, after witnessing him come back from the bloody dead… I have no doubt in my mind that he is the key to all of this.”

  Adriel smiled again. At least she wasn’t the only one who still believed in Cain.

  “Then it’s settled,” Ethebriel decreed. “We attack Markadesh.”

  Adriel stood. “Send out riders and gather your forces. Summon any citizen who wishes to fight.” She turned to Shara. “General Dralmond, prepare the Vilant and outfit any new recruits. Silas, you will continue to train the Vilant. Make certain everyone is properly outfitted and comfortable with a weapon.”

  She turned to Isroc. “Isroc, you will train our cavalry. All the cavalrymen from the various armies will be molded into one force, augmented by my Vilant. We don’t have many horses, but I can give you three thousand good riders.”

  Isroc blinked. “But I… I can’t lead. Not anymore. The last time I led men into battle, I only
got them killed.”

  “And you’ll ensure that never happens again. But I didn’t say you will lead them, at least not yet. You are the oldest and most experienced soldier in our entire army who has not only led men for decades but has also inspired the world as a Warrior. You will train our cavalry, and we will win this battle with your help.”

  Isroc stood and saluted her. “I will not fail you.”

  “Good.” Adriel looked over her friends. Her family. “I give you all three weeks to prepare. Then, we march.”

  Isroc settled back against the cold stone wall and finished the last of his goblet. He was alone in the dark and empty barracks, the sounds of laughter and merriment echoing beyond. He sighed, eyeing the empty wine jar nearby.

  The bodies at last had been cleared from the streets, and though the death toll was high, they had overcome. The city now celebrated their liberation, as evident by the booming singing, crashing mugs, and furious laughter.

  He preferred the quiet, to be left alone with his thoughts. The most important battle they’d ever fight loomed in the distance, and he was to somehow help them win it. How could Adriel expect him to be of any use to anyone after all he’d done? He’d gotten three hundred good men killed. How many more would have to die because of his choices?

  A knock on the barrack’s door stirred him from his thoughts. Why would anyone be down here? No matter, they would go away. The knocking continued as he poured himself another goblet of wine. The knocking continued as he poured himself a third. The knocking…

  Isroc cursed and jumped to his feet. He passed the rows of cots and threw the door open to find Kari standing there, eyes wide.

  His heart fluttered.

  “Kari! Oh, uh…” he stammered. “Um… hi?”

  Kari fought a laugh, hand hiding her mouth. She spoke in a musical voice, flavored with a subtle Inveiran accent. “Captain Braygon, you’ve been summoned at the request of General Dralmond.”

  “Uh, just Isroc, if it pleases you.”

  “Very well. Isroc.” Kari dipped her head, long black braid brushing down her shoulder.

  Isroc glanced behind him, promptly forgetting why he even looked. “Why are you down here?”

  Kari laughed again. “To bring you to General Dralmond.”

  “Ah, right. Um… I suppose I don’t have a choice, do I?”

  “The general sent me personally,” Kari explained. “She said it was important. And to make sure you don’t ‘slip away’.”

  Isroc groaned. Well, the sooner he found out what Shara wanted, then the sooner he could get back to the barracks. Besides, he was out of wine, anyways. He closed the door and followed Kari down the narrow hallway.

  She was a small thing, seemingly delicate and frail, yet she walked with a lithe grace. She held herself with a practically regal air, chin high and braid swaying. Her new riding dress flowed about her ankles as she walked. It was a dark forest green, threaded with gold to match her eyes.

  Isroc was all too aware of her proximity in the tightly-confined hall.

  “So, Kari… how did you wind up in the Vilant?”

  The woman studied him for a moment. “I did not wind up in it. I sought it out. My husband and I were allied with King Branim of Inveira, but when we discovered the secrets he’d been keeping and the horrible things he did to his own people… well, we decided to escape. I eventually made it to Erias where rumors said an army of citizen soldiers kept the country safe.”

  “Your husband, he’s…”

  “Dead. I lost him along the way.”

  “I’m sorry. I have lost family as well.”

  “It seems that is the way of the world.”

  The two walked in silence for a time. They passed the tunnels to the dungeons where most of the Aceden prisoners were kept and ascended the next two floors to enter the arena proper. Here, thousands of people crammed the narrow halls and walkways. They drank and cheered and gambled and sang, a cacophony of noises that crashed into one booming din.

  Kari led the way, squeezing through groups of people. Men and women danced around them as they passed, streamers and food and drink filling the air. Isroc’s already inebriated mind swam with clashing colors and noises. Kari grabbed him by the arm and helped him through the crowds, leading him up a staircase to a spectator’s box.

  The outcropping overlooked the entire arena, and people milled about it thick, but the box was relatively empty. Silas and Shara sat alone here with another man, cursing and laughing as they attempted to tap a keg. Shara sat on Silas’ lap, swinging a wooden mallet at the keg between her legs. She missed half the swings.

  “I have brought Isroc, general,” Kari harrumphed.

  “Good.” Shara swung, mallet immediately falling from her hands. “A fine soldier you are.”

  “Why am I here?” Isroc asked.

  “Wow, grumpy,” Silas remarked. “Look who we pulled out of the shit pits.” He waved, and the other man stood with a flourish.

  Isroc gaped. “Kaelin?”

  The Eriasan soldier’s left arm was in a sling and he stood with a pained wince. He had lost weight, making him appear gaunt and worn. But he still smiled, red hair bright. “The very same!”

  “We found him and his men rotting away in the cells below,” Silas explained as Isroc and Kaelin shook hands.

  “After the battle at Seraphel, my men and I managed to sneak around that big wall in Charun, but we were captured entering Kaanos. Been here for weeks!” Kaelin took a swig from a wineskin. “But we managed to pick up some soldiers along the way. Mostly Eriasan, a few Meresi. Almost a thousand swords in total.”

  “That’s incredible news!” Isroc cried.

  “Indeed. We also heard rumors of a Meresi fleet along the southern coast. If they’re on our side, then we might be able to snatch them up as well.”

  Isroc nodded. Maybe this really could be their chance to end the war. “Where’s Cain?” His stomach twisted as Kaelin sighed. “Where is he?”

  “I can’t say. He and Mithaniel left us behind. All he said was that we had to go our separate ways and that we needed to make for Dun Ara. That’s it.”

  Isroc crossed his arms in thought. Cain threw away his army. His friends. Why did he want to be alone so badly? “So he made for Dun Ara then?”

  Kaelin shrugged. “Can’t say for sure. Something tells me he wasn’t headed here though.”

  Shara scooped up her mallet and swung at the keg again. It bounced off and promptly fell to the ground.

  Kari groaned and picked up the mallet to tap the keg. Silas and Shara clapped as whiskey sprayed.

  Silas propped up the keg and filled a cup. “I’m showing Shara here what a true whiskey tastes like. There’s nothing better than a fine Kaanosi amber. Made in the hills of Lake Torriv, no less!”

  Kari groaned again and made to turn away but Shara called out, “Stay with us! That’s an order!”

  “Isroc!” Silas cried. “Tell her how you feel!”

  Kari and Isroc shared a glance.

  Shara laughed, nearly spitting whiskey. “He’s beet red. Look at him!”

  It was Isroc’s turn to groan. “Please, stay,” he asked Kari. “Don’t leave me alone with these two.”

  Kari smirked and swung down into one of the chairs. Shara and Silas shoved cups into their hands, and the two exchanged another uneasy glance.

  Kaelin laughed and bowed to the group. “I must be getting back to my men, I’ve got a few games of cards to win. Isroc, Silas, I wish I could say I’ll fight beside you but…” He glanced down at his broken arm.

  “You’re staying here with the garrison then?” Isroc asked.

  Kaelin smirked. “Someone’s got to watch this city while you go off and have all the fun. May your blades stay sharp.” With that, the Eriasan captain bowed and left.

  “Drink!” Silas urged.

  The whiskey wasn’t bad, smooth and smoky. He didn’t see how it was any better than anything Erias had though. Kari must have thought something mu
ch different, for she gave a desperate gulp, eyes watering. The group laughed as she set the cup aside, coughing for air.

  Silas laid back in his chair, eyes closed as Shara rubbed an idle hand through his hair. “What do you think happens when we die?”

  The question came suddenly, cutting Isroc short as he took another sip. “Pardon?”

  “I’ve just been thinking a lot about that kind of stuff lately, I guess.” His eyes grew distant as he took another swig of his drink. “What’s the point? We get our peace, but what does it matter if we all just end up ashes anyway? What’s the point if my brother just…”

  The two women drew uncomfortably quiet. This wasn’t a topic anyone spent much time discussing. “We’ve just got to accept that,” Isroc shrugged.

  “Then there’s no point to anything, is there? Joshua believed that there was something for us after we die. I didn’t believe it then, but now I don’t know. Seems kind of shitty to me that we can do whatever we want in this life and then it all just goes away.”

  Isroc thought on this. He’d heard tales of the Forgotten before, of things called gods and deities. People worshiped them once and believed that through their obedience and faith they’d be granted riches in the afterlife. Or something like that. No one really knew if all that even existed anymore, let alone believe in it.

  “Maybe there’s a place where we all go,” Isroc sighed. “Maybe Joshua and Aren and Armeth and all the others are waiting for us there. The old stories talk about such places, after all.”

  Silas gave a thin smile. “Aye. Maybe there is such a place.”

  “Maybe.” Isroc took another sip. He could see his daughter again. The thought warmed his heart.

  “If Joshua could see us now, I think he’d be proud of how far we’ve come. Just one last fight…”

  Isroc raised his cup. “For Joshua. For Aren. For all of the fallen.” The group lifted their cups to their lips. Kari sputtered, whiskey dribbling from her mouth as she coughed to another bout of their laughter.