The Shadow of War

by Bryan Gifford

  “My Vilant will be bolstered by Charunite soldiers. With some of your cavalry, we’ll be able to hold our own. Besides, Shara is my general. She’s proven herself to be a fine tactician.”

  Shara crossed her arms, somehow managing to look bored. “We’ll need a large force, but it can be done, so long as we keep an eye on that valley to the Crossing. The trickiest part will be taking that plain as that swamp to the east looks like it could pose us a problem. However, if we can push the enemy into that mess then we should be fine.”

  “That leaves us with the southern path,” Isroc said, turning to Cain.

  Cain nodded. “I can do it.”

  “It’s risky,” Ethebriel said, “letting you lead at the front, Cain. You’re Iscarius’ target. If he catches or kills you, all of this could be for nothing.”

  “Yes, but I’m willing to risk that. I won’t sit by and let all of you do the fighting for me. Besides, this will come down to me and him… all of you know it.”

  Adriel frowned. It was probably for the best that he would be leading an army of his own; he would be less likely to run off and do something stupid if he had soldiers to protect. Admittedly, that was selfish thinking, but she didn’t care.

  “Give me a force of experienced soldiers,” Cain continued, “and I’ll take the southern canyons. Mithaniel can come with me; his strength will be crucial in helping us punch through any of their defenses.”

  Isroc tapped a fist on the table in thought. “Very well, we have our teams. Now, the heaviest fighting will certainly be down the middle, especially here.” He pointed at the wide area where the three valley paths came together. “This Crossing will be absolutely critical. The enemy will be camped there as it provides quick access to the surrounding valley chains. Each of our armies will have to successfully take and defend each path if we’re to prevent the enemy from flanking us. If any team fails, the Acedens will be able to surround us. This will be bloody, there’s no doubt about that. The only consolation comes with the fact that those narrow paths will negate any numbers advantage they might have on us. It will all come down to who can kill faster.

  “Once we conquer the Crossing, we’ll then have to take this keep.” He circled a small fortress that spanned the rear paths of the Crossing. “It’s an obvious chokepoint as it guards the main passage east toward Markadesh.”

  “So,” Silas began, “we take the three valley paths then meet at the Crossing. Once we push back the Acedens, we’ll take that keep. After that, it’s a straight shot to Markadesh, right? Sounds simple enough.”

  Isroc fingered his graying beard in thought. “More or less. If we push all the way to the keep, then they’ll just withdraw into Markadesh. Which leads us to another problem… how are we going to take such a massive fortress?”

  “We have a few ballistae and onagers,” Ethebriel replied. “We can build more machines if given enough time, possibly even ladders and rams. Worst case, perhaps we can simply starve them out; we’ll have supply trains coming in from Kaanos to aid us. They won’t.”

  “I don’t think Iscarius will let us wait him out; he’ll strike back at some point. We’ll need to hit Markadesh hard, and quickly. If we let this dissolve into a siege, then we risk Aceden reinforcements striking our flanks from Charun or Meres.”

  The tent drew silent.

  “One problem at a time, I suppose,” Ethebriel sighed.

  Adriel peered down at the map again. Something struck her then. “What about the mountains?”

  “What do you mean?” Isroc asked, brow perked.

  “The mountains out there in the distance. The valleys have to be cut out of something, right?”

  Isroc cursed softly. “I was so focused on the valleys that I didn’t stop to think what would be between them.”

  “There’s not much information on the topography here, but we can assume by the scout reports that the mountains will be fairly large and dense. Wouldn’t the Acedens set up defensive positions along their slopes to slow our advance?”

  “Yes, they will certainly have positions set up at key locations if the terrain permits.” He cursed again. “This complicates things. They will be difficult to climb and won’t be able to sustain large forces, but they’ll have archers, probably some ballistae and catapults as well.”

  Cain scanned the map. “That means we’ll have to have separate forces clear the mountain paths as well.”

  “I have many scouts that are eager to prove themselves,” Shara replied. “They should be enough to take care of any preliminary threats before the army’s advance.”

  “I was an Outrider,” Silas said. “We did that kind of shit all the time. Right, Cain? Well, maybe not with men and catapults and all that, but we were always the first ones sent out to poke the enemy.”

  Cain clapped his friend on the back. “Aye, that’s a good idea. Would you be willing to lead some of the Vilant?”

  “Only if I can bring some of the Outriders. And I want to clear the northern passes first.”

  Before Adriel could say anything, Shara cut in. “Why, do you think we need protection?” Was the woman pursing her lips?

  “Yes, I think—”

  Isroc raised placating hands. “Before you dig your grave, Silas, let me just suggest that it’s a better idea if you went ahead of the main assault. It will be the most heavily defended, and that means the mountains will be teeming with Acedens. The girls can take care of themselves.”

  Silas wilted beneath Shara’s glare. The woman could probably stare a ravenous wolf into submission. “Alright,” he agreed. “I’ll lead a team down the middle. Who’s leading the other two, then?”

  Shara turned to Kari, who had been hanging quietly by Isroc’s elbow. “You’ve been recently promoted, Kari. Would you be willing to lead the northern team?”

  The woman thought on this with a frown. “Um… yes, I could. I mean, yes. I will!”

  “Good,” Isroc said. “That just leaves the southern valleys. I can’t tell how difficult the passes are; judging by the open areas drawn here, they seem to be easy to traverse, but I could be mistaken. If they’re easy, then the enemy will have heavy defenses in place to ensure you don’t advance without a fight. However, if they’re too difficult, then there might not be much set up in your way besides key positions. I suppose it’s a shot in the dark.”

  Cain nodded. He seemed unfazed by the potentially daunting task, but Adriel felt his hand lightly squeeze hers. “I’m used to risks. Like I said, if I have experienced soldiers at my back, then I will take the passes.”

  “I’ll give you some of my best scouts for clearing the mountains,” Shara said. “If Silas will provide some of his Outriders and Adriel and Ethebriel some of their best soldiers, then you should have a solid force of elites under you.”

  “That will be enough.”

  Ethebriel clapped his hands together. “Very well, we have a plan of assault. Does everyone understand their tasks? Good. Then we move out at first light. I will summon refreshments while we go over some of the finer details with our generals.” He stepped outside and called for a servant to fetch his officers.

  The rest of the group fell into quiet conversation. They sounded confident and hopeful, but Adriel sensed an undercurrent. Fear. Doubt. They had a plan, but those were only good until the first sword was swung.

  Adriel swallowed her own worries and looked up to see Cain smiling at her. She smiled back and rested her head on his shoulder. The two stood there, hands held tight, breathing in each other’s familiar scents.

  In the chaos before battle, Adriel felt a calming stillness. So long as Cain was there, everything would be alright.

  Cain traced a hand down Adriel’s spine, her skin silken to the touch. She turned to him with a smile and continued brushing her hair. She teased out the tangles into a graceful wave down her shoulders. He watched her for a time as she knelt there in the tent, humming softly to herself as she readied for the day. Outside, the camp bustled with the preparations
of war.

  He reached his arms around her and pulled her into a hug. She smelled faintly of sweat and linen and oiled leather, of a subdued floral soap beneath it all. He held her long after sunlight filled their tent.

  He wished he had been strong enough to express his love for her long before now. Yet he hadn’t been able to fight the feeling that he would be betraying Eileen’s memory. He’d gone all this time hoping Adriel would understand, hoping he could one day forgive himself. And when she’d professed her love for him, he’d been scared. Scared that he wasn’t worthy of it. Scared that he’d only hurt her. After all, his ending would only be heartbreak. But now… well, none of that mattered. He had her love. He had her.

  The world didn’t seem so dark with her in his arms.

  “I wish we could stay like this forever,” Adriel breathed softly.

  “If only we could.”

  “I have something for you. Wait here.” She threw on her clothes, tugged on her boots, and slipped out of the tent. She returned a few minutes later pulling a small hand cart up to the tent flaps.

  Before Cain could say anything, she slipped off the cart’s cloth to reveal an immaculate set of plate armor. Of dark reds and earthen browns, each piece formed sharp lines and sweeping etchings that gave it an almost sculpture-like appearance. Yet beneath its simplistic beauty was the undeniable truth: it was built for war. Tough steel folds blended with hardened leathers. Wide pauldrons and greaves curved out to maximize their coverage. Even the buckles were made of thick, reinforced straps, designed to hide away in the curves of the armor.

  “Its… it’s beautiful. You never cease to amaze.”

  “I figured you’d like it. Better than your grimy old leathers, anyway. Here, I’ll help you put it on.” She strapped on the pieces one at a time, starting from the feet and working up to the pauldrons. “It looks good on you. Husband.” She stepped back to admire.

  Cain twisted and stretched; it seemed to weigh little more than his old leathers. He’d never been opposed to a good set of armor, but his years as an Outrider had instilled in him a need to be light and mobile. But those days were behind him. Perhaps this steel plate was indeed what he needed.

  “Locke made it for you with a little input from me. I figured the red would match Ceerocai nicely,” she added with a wink.

  Cain nodded and ran a hand through his ragged hair. Yes, perhaps he did need to look the part if he was to help lead the Alliance. He fished in a nearby satchel and took out a pair of scissors and a razor. Pulling out a small silver mirror, he set to work shearing off long locks of his hair into a bowl. He then lathered his cheeks with oil and brought the razor to his beard.

  After a few minutes, Adriel palmed his trimmed beard. “Better,” she smiled.

  Cain turned to see his reflection in the polished mirror. Short hair swept up and bushy beard now trimmed close to his face, he indeed felt like a new man. Gone were those haunted, sunken eyes. In their place was the focused and fierce gaze of a man with something to finally fight for.

  Adriel rapped her knuckles against his breastplate. “You’re not the only one who needs to suit up.” Cain jumped up and helped her into her armor. Cloak buckled to her pauldrons and everything tightened into place, he set her crown down around her brow. She turned with a smile, slightly pointed ears poking out from her soft tresses, white crown shining. Yet, for all her dazzling silvers and whites, none of it shone as brilliantly as her eyes.

  Pools of infinite blue, like the deep space in the heavens just before the sun’s fall. He could get lost in that gaze forever.

  “Let’s go to war,” Adriel said, taking his hand. Together, they exited their tent and stepped out into chaos.

  They were immediately surrounded by Adriel’s guards and attendants, followed by an outer ring of scouts that delivered their reports. As they walked—Adriel listening intently to her people and occasionally giving an order—soldiers stopped to bow to them.

  Soldiers bustled about, running this way and that as they went about their final duties. Tents dropped and cookfires billowed out. Men and women gathered in formations, marching to their assigned armies. The air rumbled with a cacophony of noises: shouting soldiers, hooves stamping, wagon wheels creaking, metal ringing.

  Cain and Adriel walked through their armies, hand in hand, until they came out onto the field where the other Warriors waited. Beyond them, the armies amassed in full. One hundred thousand soldiers.

  Cain pulled his wife into his arms and embraced her with a kiss. Adriel melted into his hands and threw her arms around his neck. The army erupted with a cheer.

  Cain drew away and peered down into those depthless eyes. “Be safe. Return to me.”

  “It’s you I’m worried about.” She managed a smile. “I love you, Cain.”

  “And I love you, Adriel.”

  Cain helped her into her saddle and slipped his hand from hers. They exchanged a final smile. He nodded to Isroc and Silas, then stepped back with Ceerocai high overhead. The armies cheered again and banged weapons against shields. It was a powerful, earthshaking roar. He knew their enemy would hear it.

  The Alliance was coming for them.

  Ethebriel wheeled his horse in a circle, the morning sun reflecting off his crown and shining against his armor of blue and gold. He thrust his sword in the air. “We march for the end! We march for peace. Here, in the enemy’s den, we fight… and we prevail!”

  At this, Cain turned with a final glance at his wife and friends. He then gathered his army and made the first steps south. The war chants of the Alliance echoed behind him.

  Cheers and songs boomed in the field and valleys beyond, echoing like thunderclaps in the hallway.

  Iscarius’ boots clicked against the dark granite as he walked. Torches lined his path, leading to the sunlit exit at the far end. His Blood Guard marched at his heels.

  General Malleus stepped up beside him with a small bow. “My lord, Commander Demorne and High Captain Vernell’s men are in position. More will be arriving soon.”

  “Good. You know what you must do?”

  Malleus saluted. “Yes, my lord. I will not fail you. Not again.”

  Iscarius waved a hand in dismissal and continued down the hall.

  Everything led to this inevitable final battle. Over three hundred years of plotting and preparing. So much sacrifice, so much lost.

  He felt that he had done well; after all, he’d killed Abaddon, united Tarsha, and saved it from not only genocide but the assured destruction that would have followed the vacuum of Abaddon’s death. Yes, he’d made mistakes. Yes, lives had been required, but what were their deaths against the world’s salvation? Only time would tell what his legacy would be. Would Tarsha accept his rule, let him guide them to peace and prosperity, or would they label him a tyrant and traitor?

  Either way, it didn’t matter. He’d done what had been necessary.

  This wasn’t over, however. He still had that annoying thorn in his side—the Alliance—to deal with. And, of course, Cain Taran. The world could not know peace so long as Taran still lived. His life was the final string desperately holding up a world of suffering. A world of destruction and death.

  Iscarius would usher in a new world.

  He would kill Cain Taran.

  The afternoon sun struck him as he stepped out of the hall and onto a large balcony. A cold wind beat against him and whipped his cloak as he approached the railing. He placed his hands upon the cool marble and surveyed the wilds of Angeled: sweeping mountains, deep valley chains, the wide lake that surrounded Markadesh.

  And his army.

  Two hundred and fifty thousand Acedens amassed below, their black and gray armor a vast sea that covered the fields and stretched far into the valley chains. From Markadesh’s highest tower, they looked like grains on the shore. A deep and consuming void.

  Iscarius raised his arms to the cheers of his people. He then spoke, manipulating the air to carry his voice over the masses. “Acedens! Brothers,
sisters of Tarsha… long have you fought and bled and suffered. You have sacrificed much, but now is the day your efforts bear fruit. You hold the future in your hands. Will it be one of pain, of loss? Or will it be a future bright with hope? It is up to you. Our world will be remade by the work of your swords. The past dies today! Stand with me, my children, and let us forge a new world!”

  The earth shook with the thunder of their roars.

  Iscarius nodded to himself as his armies cried, their banners flapping, weapons glistening.

  Yes, it was time for a new world.

  The Shadow of War

  Silas skulked between trees, leaves crunching beneath his boots. His small team of Outriders fanned out around him through the rocky slopes.

  The sides of the mountains were steep, jutting straight down at places. The higher they went the less Silas could make himself peek down into the canyon; he didn’t need much of a reminder to know that he’d look like a broken egg if he stepped just two feet to the right. So, he focused on climbing higher. Using the trees and exposed rocks as handholds, he pulled himself up over a ridge and stopped to catch his breath in the thin air.

  He hoisted a soldier up and led the group higher. All around them, the branches of twisted trees rattled and shed their leaves with each tug of the wind. Despite the occasional trail of dust, the late autumn air was clear up here. It smelled fresh, of piney evergreens and the faintest hint of rain. It was peaceful… and that made it easy to forget that he was on the cusp of a battle.

  Isroc’s troops marched in the canyon below, their footfalls booming in the sheer rock walls. Silas hurried—surely the Acedens would be around here somewhere. There was no way they would let the Alliance gain this much ground without a fight.

  He continued along the ridges and slopes, his Outriders spread out just within eyesight. These weren’t the men he’d fought alongside with over the years; instead, they were from different units—the Star Striders, the Blade Weepers, and the Dustwatchers, mostly. They were good men, the best of the best. He was humbled to be leading such fine soldiers into battle… Joshua would be proud.