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"I... no?" I waved the weird popup away, searching for something to cover myself so I could go and get my things. The window continued to nag.
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"No! And would you please fuck off? I can't see!" I shooed the notification to the side and staggered out the door with a threadbare towel clamped over my privates.
My bare feet slapped against stone as I ran out into a corridor, then through a door and out onto a medieval rampart. Everything looked surreal and distant as I wove through guardsmen, following my instincts and the sound of a dragon trumpeting overhead. My eyes were blurry, head full of cotton wool as I ran out onto the rampart, weaving through the guardsmen. My heart and chest were aching by the time I burst out of the bastion door.
A circle of soldiers stood around my pack and a pile of dust on the ground, while Kai... Katie?... flew circles around the tower. "Excuse me! Mostly naked man, coming through!"
Faces paled, and a murmur rippled through the ranks. The soldiers backed away from me against the walls, staring like they'd just seen a ghost. One man was covered in blood, gaping at me in open mouthed horror as I went to my bag and searched for something to wear.
"Hector! Are you okay?!" The dragon circled around and landed on the edge of the wall. As her shadow fell over us, the terrified soldiers fled down either end of the rampart. I was still trying to make sense of the bag when the dragon ducked her head down and nudged me with her snout.
When her scales touched my skin, my temples heated sharply. I groaned, dropping my Spear with a clatter as my memories were shoved into my brain from between my eyes. Suddenly, I remembered it all: Karalti. Suri. Fort Korona. The general assembly. Fuck – what time was it?
I re-equipped my clothes, weapon, and the Raven Suit, then dropped into a squat, rubbing my eyes. "Urgh. Wow, okay… that was weird.”
"Rytier!" One of the guardsmen edged closer to us. My head jerked up. He was reaching out to me, as if unconvinced that I was real. "How is this… I-I saw you die with my own eyes!"
“Back it up, buckethead!” Karalti hissed and snapped at him, flashing rows of dagger-sized fangs. The man stumbled back, almost colliding with the wall.
"Calm down, Tidbit." I lay a shaky hand just above her nostrils. They flexed beneath my palm, snorting blasts of hot, ozone-scented air over my skin. After a second or two, the shaking stopped, and I felt better. Almost as if the death had never happened. "Short answer is that I'm a motherfuckin’ Starborn. Start assembling, guys – it’s time for the parade."
Eyes wide, the guard stepped back. The murmuring intensified. "Yes... Your Grace."
[You have become a subject of gossip! Your Renown may rise or fall as word of your deeds spread around your locale. You have gained +20 Renown.]
After making sure that all my bits and bobs were still attached, I remounted and buckled myself to the saddle. The guards retreated as Karalti launched herself heavily into the air, cut around the tower, and headed for the parade ground.
“That was fucking weird.” I hung on dizzily, bucking up and down with every wingbeat. “That time when I died, I forgot everything. I felt… like someone who wasn’t real. Couldn’t remember your name. Couldn’t remember MY name. But then you touched me, and the memories came back.”
“I dunno. Maybe ask Rin?” Karalti sounded anxious.
“No point. She can’t do anything about it. I can’t do anything about it, either. But I know something I have to do… I have to record a post-mortem message for myself in case it happens again. After this fracas is over, that’s exactly what I’m gonna do.”
We broke over the star-shaped parade ground. Ranks of soldiers were starting to form below, swirling into formation. Ignas's troops - fresh, well-equipped and disciplined - stood at attention. The Yanik Rangers were also straight, orderly, and disciplined, strikingly different to the Black Army in their ghillie-suit armor. Their equipment was different, too: they carried pistols, javelins, and heavy cutlasses. Zlaslo was present, looking seedy but functional. He saluted us from the ground.
The other soldiers were a mix. Sergeants barked orders at the [Militia Pikemen] and [Militia Swordsman] units, trying and failing to get them to stand in the same lockstep formation as the professional soldiers to their left. The militia was the largest group there, and the highest leveled – but also the lowest in morale. They were armed with a motley array of weapons and gear. and were united under the various banners of their local lords. Those lords and their knights were just arriving: [Royal Hookwing Pistoleers] on their hissing, agile mounts, the heavy cavalry riding creatures that looked like roided-out unicorns from some post-apocalyptic nightmare. Above them, squadrons of [Ravensblood Dragoons] flew in on their quazi, gliding to the assembly in tight wedge formations.
Karalti let out a piercing, triumphant cry as she flew overhead, pumping her wings and driving up the dust and moss from the parade ground. The awestruck soldiers shielded their faces against the debris as we circled around and came to land with a rolling boom in front of the gate.
"Do you need me here?" Karalti asked uncertainly. "I can't change yet, but I can stand here and look impressive."
"That is literally all you have to do: inspire the troops." The officers were gathering in the gatehouse. Suri was already there, towering over Istvan in her black armor. She had put her cloak on today, and with her red curls blowing in the gusts of cold, blood-scented wind whipping up from the direction of the Endlar, she commanded the presence of a Valkyrie. Soma was there, too, surrounded by his retinue. His fat head swiveled as I strode across, trying not to choke myself on the collar of my cloak as the wind gusted it back.
"I heard you had an accident near Bastion Nine!" Soma boomed as I approached. "Is everyone alright?"
"Yeah. Nothing serious." I gave him a jerk of my head, but could hardly stand to look at him. The memory of him placing the necklace around Karalti's neck flashed through my mind's eye. I almost sneered.
"There have been developments in the battle against the Demon." Soma was on the back of his hookwing, a far more even-tempered and patient beast than Cutthroat, who was still confined to the stables. "I must inspect the ranks. Speak with Istvan and Suri."
"You're the Commander," I replied. "I'll speak with you."
He arched an eyebrow, and then spurred his hookwing and simply rode on past me. I fixed a pleasant, smiling mask on my face and went to go join the people who actually knew what the fuck they were doing.
Istvan was on the back of one of the horned horse-like creatures, a heavy-boned, savage beast with sharp, camel-like teeth and a huge horn arcing up from its beetling brow like a solid bone scimitar. It was like the monster truck of unicorns. The HUD marked this creature as a [Corrun].
"Good morning to you, Lord Dragozin. I see His Grace has been as summarily dismissive of you as he was with the Lady Ba'hadir and myself." Istvan was sober for once: sharp-eyed, properly shaven, his goatee trimmed and his clothes cleaned.
"The guy's got an attitude problem," Suri remarked. "Probably needs to be gelded."
I snorted. "Before he went off on his Very Important Business, he said that there'd been a development in the war?"
Istvan's handsome face drew into sharp, worried lines. "Yes. The undead are preparing to march. They have found a way through the swamp. We have seven days before they arrive."
Chapter 30
"What? How?" I took a step toward him. " We saw that the rot had spread through the forest from the air, but it wasn't THAT much closer."
"Another scouting party came back on
ly an hour ago. Barely. They’re still in the hospital with frostbite, because the dead have enough mana from those land-draining devices to freeze the swamp. They're walking over the ice.” The lines around Istvan’s eyes deepened as he spoke. “That’s why they were draining the marshes – the undead can walk easily over the frozen mud. The scouts encountered the vanguard and have warned the Yanik tribes still remaining that they are in the line of fire.”
“How many rotters are on the march?”
“At least sixty thousand now,” Istvan replied. “But that could be the vanguard.”
Suri nodded, her lips pressed into a thin line.
Istvan sighed. “As I suspected, yesterday's little love tap was a test of our Western Wall’s readiness. There is no way we can be ready for what is coming. The Demon will crush us with numbers, as he did in Karhad."
"Shit." I looked down. "A lot can be done in seven days. Is there any way we can slow them down?"
"It is hard to say. Zlaslo tells me that his chieftain, the king of the Tiranozavir tribe, is determined to hold his ground," he replied. "They are the second largest of the Yanik central tribes, and King Ervin is a veteran and a good commander.”
“Good enough to hold back fifty thousand zombies?” Suri asked.
“No.” Istvan shook his head. “Whether it takes a day or a week for the Demon to smash their territory, Ervin and his people will be joining the ranks of the Demon's forces. They may buy us another day or two. Zlaslo's people know this land like no others, and the Tiranozavir earned their name for the dinosaurs they keep. One Tyrannosaurus can eat a lot of dead flesh."
"And they'll eat a lot of live flesh when they've been Stranged into undead siege engines. I hope you’re prepared to deal with skeletons riding zombie T-rexes." Suri spat to the side. "The Demon has a hardon for the Western Wall because that town is just north of it."
"Slutlava," I said, with some satisfaction.
Istvan's pale green eyes were steady and determined. "Yes. The Demon knows that if they can overrun the Western Wall, they can decimate Slutlava and add nearly seven thousand troops to their rank. They will take our airships and facilities and then fly north through Krivan Pass. We cannot let that happen. After this assembly, I am ordering all civilians and camp followers to be sent north, across the river and into the valley."
I looked to Suri, and she nodded. "Good idea. I vote we call it the ‘Slutwalk’."
Suri elbowed me in the ribs.
Now that the sun was properly risen, the sky was the color of white lead. Not from impending snow - it was ash, and it turned Archemi's blue-white sun an eerie purplish color, at least to my eyes. Soma rode back, pulling down the visor of his beaked and crested helm. As he took position, two of his retainers blew on polished horns to call the assembly to order.
"Soldiers of Vlachia! My drużyna!" Soma's voice was magically amplified by the helm, ringing out over the assembled troops. From the corner of my eye, I saw the guardsmen lined up on the ramparts of the Fort and up along the Wall beyond those. They were sniffling and slouching. "You are here today for three reasons! Firstly, to reclaim your homes and defend your families. Secondly, for your own self-respect, because there is nowhere else to be in Myszno but here. Third, because you are the blood of the claw-lords of old, the children of the Son of the Forger and the first Volod of this nation - the Dragon King, Taltos Róna-Tas!"
The Vlachians cheered and banged their pikes on the ground, but the Yanik and Churvi among the ranks stared stonily ahead. Karalti fidgeted on the other side of the plaza. Suri tutted and rolled her eyes.
"You are here for battle! And we shall have it." Soma paced his hookwing in front of the line as the raptor champed its jaws and lifted its feathers. "We have received word this morning that the Demon marches north. All that stands between us and the dead are the bold Yanik tribes barely a hundred miles from here. They have committed to the defense, though they have rejected our aid. So they shall stand alone, while we prepare here, for the stand against the horde."
I watched the faces of the Yanik carefully. Zlaslo was impassive, but several of his men were swallowing back agitation. I was betting they were from the Tiranozavir tribe. There was a decent chance they would desert.
"My own House, the great House of Soma, is redoubling its efforts. We are artificers. Weaponeers. Strategists. Soon, four thousand troops will be arriving from Litvy, with a fleet of newly-built ships and magic that will sear the undead from the earth. I, Lord Commander of the Prezyemi Line and the Satrap of Vastil, shall be focusing my efforts on deploying these weapons and magic. In light of this development, I have made the decision to restructure the order of command."
The Corvinus troops and the battle-hardened Yanik did not flinch. Nor did the knights and the noble bannermen, but a soft clicking and rustling rose from the militia ranks: the sound of thousands of men fidgeting all at once.
"Ur Istvan Arshak has served bravely and loyally as Captain of the Defense," Soma drawled. "And has proven time and time again that he is a man of the people, an outstanding retainer, and an excellent warrior. But the Wall is large, and the responsibility cannot be borne by one man alone. As such, I am relieving Ur Arshak from his position as Captain, and-"
A hiss went up from among the ranks. Zlaslo scowled.
"-AND posting him as the new Sheriff of Slutlava," Lord Soma continued, speaking over the disquiet now rising from the army like steam. "The town will soon billet over fourteen thousand people, soldiers and civilians alike, and it will require strong, effective, hands on leadership to remain orderly."
Beside me, Istvan swelled like a pufferfish. His skin turned ashen, his eyes very pale, and he reached down to grasp the hilt of his sword with one white-knuckled hand. I reached out and caught him by the elbow. When he turned to glare, I shook my head and let him go.
"The Prezyemi Line shall be split between the Western Wall, comprising Bastions ten thru thirty, and the Eastern Wall, comprising the Korona Fortified District and Bastions 1 thru 9," Soma continued. "I shall remain as Lord Commander of the Eastern Wall. For the Western Wall, I nominate our new foreign-born hero and the first dragon rider to grace Myszno in over a millennium, Dragozin Hector of Tungaant."
My blood ran cold. You mongrel piece of shit.
"Ignas Corvinus himself sent Lord Dragozin and Lady Ba'hadir to fight for and then claim the Duchy of Racsa for themselves." Soma proclaimed. His voice was cheerful, but his eyes were little more than slits as he turned to look back at us. "And to that end, all of the noble banners sworn to House Bolza shall report to the Commander of the West. I also nominate the people's hero, Vash Dorha, to the position of Captain of the Western Wall. He is in absentia today, but I have no doubt he shall rise to the occasion and serve Lord Dragozin well."
"You egomaniacal, pompous...!" Istvan hissed under his breath. He leaned forward, as if he were about to urge his mount forward. I caught his eye and shook my head.
"I nominate the Lady Suri Ba'hadir to be Captain of the Eastern Wall," Soma finished smugly. "She is a warrior of incredible skill who proved herself time and time again in the last assault. Ur Arshak has served the common soldiers well for many months now, but the Lady Ba'hadir will instill more rigorous training programs for the militia and will be liaising with the Satraps of the Eastern Counties to recruit more men to this cause."
Suri made a choking sound of indignation beside me.
The expressions on the faces of the soldiers said it all. The bannermen were now restless, their mounts pawing the stones. We did not have the Renown required to command them. Almost all of the cavalry and the banners were Bolza's men, devoted to Istvan and the memory of their Voivode.
Then, suddenly, a chorus of boos rose up from the peasant ranks. First one, then several, then an entire chorus of them, followed by the banging of pikes against the ground. Muttering rippled through the orderly lines of the other brigades. Soma's smirk began to fade, but the unrest was quickly bought under control. Captains patrolled the
line. The first men to boo were pulled out and dragged off by other officers. But the damage was done.
[You have lost -500 Renown (Myzsno Defense Force). Current Renown: -274]
“Fuck!” Suri hissed beside me. “Hector, did you just lose a heap of Renown?”
“Yeah.” I flexed my hands and braced for impact.
Istvan looked down at us from his corrun, who snorted and pawed beneath him. "Is this what the Raven King had planned all along? To shame me? To take away the last pride I had left?"
"No!" My mouth opened and closed. "Istvan-"
"I am Ur Arshak to you." Istvan's back stiffened, his nostrils trembled, and before I could say anything else, he cocked his chin, viciously pulled his horned horse around and spurred it through the gatehouse and into the Fortress.
The banner captains called their men to salute. Not all of them did. They began to fall out, the ranks swirling in together like stormclouds forming before a tornado.
"Guys! what happened!? We just lost a bunch of Renown! (>__<);" Rin's PM - flagged Urgent - broke through the dark noise in my head.
"Soma happened. BBL." I glared at the big man as he rode back toward us, his visor raised.
"Now listen here, you fuckin’ waste of space!" Before I could open my mouth, Suri boiled forward. "Mate, thanks to you, no one here is gonna be able to get their shit together in time to meet this assault. Are you literally out of your fuckin’ mind? Do you want all these men to die?"
"Of course not. That is why-“
“Well you just fuckin’ signed them off to be fuckin’ slaughtered, dickhead!” Suri spat.
Soma kept his hookwing on a tight rein, looking down at us. “If you could contain yourself for one moment, my lady. My troops and ships are coming to reinforce me, the rightful Satrap of Vastil and the acting Voivode, as soon as Krivan Pass is opened up."
“You are not the Voivode, acting or otherwise,” I retorted. “We are. And you’re out of line.”
Kingdom Come Page 31