Kingdom Come

by James Osiris Baldwin

  “It is true.” Taethawn’s gaze slid to Zediwitz, who nodded. “It iss part of why we left. My Ro’wor riders can do little but strop their claws and pick their teeth here. But the corrun and coursers stand idle.”

  “What is your proposition, then, Rytier?” Ur Gehlan, the Knight of the Red Star, spoke up for the first time.

  I glanced at Karalti. She smiled and nodded back.

  “I think our initial strategy should be to focus on reducing the volume of Ashur’s army, and then defend against a smaller force while a team of specialists goes to take out Ashur himself,” I said. “The way I see it, we can execute this in three stages. First up is the reduction. We do that by maximizing the opportunities presented by the Prezyemi Line. I want to collapse the entire west half of the line by opening the Gul River Dam and letting it flood and sweep away a freshly-evacuated Slutlava. The debris will narrow the battlefield and will funnel the undead forces to the center of the line by necessity. We’re going to turn that battlefield into an obstacle course that will punish every single step they take. My prediction is that Ashur will use his zombies as cannon fodder and hold his better troops in reserve.”

  “Yes. That is his core strategy.” Istvan was scrutinizing the map, his hands laced under his chin.

  “What we do is let them choke the battlefield.” I drew a blob, indicating where the zombies would come in and try to assault the wall. “But by the time they get here and start laying explosives and climbing, we’re already gone. We start the evacuations tonight: The Orphans, our cavalry, everyone who doesn’t need to be here goes north to Litvy before Ashur arrives. We have a series of un-manned fortifications, pull back as each line is overcome, and then bust the Sarviz Dam. The Wall will already be armed with demolition charges and payloads of Greek Fire. When I first got here, Istvan, you told me the only thing that worked on the dead were fire and water. We’re gonna give them both at the same time.”

  “Right. It probably won’t destroy his army, but it’ll piss off the Demon… uhh… Ashur the Swizzler something chronic,” Suri added.

  I nodded. “We want to control their movement, reduce their numbers, and make them angry. If they’re angry, they go where we want them to go. The fire and flood should render his cheap units unusable. The ruins of Slutlava and the wall and everything else will act like a big grinder. The goal is to lure them to Krivan Pass.”

  Rin wrinkled her nose. “Oh my god. I can already imagine how this is going to smell.”

  I chuckled. “I know, right?”

  “If we’re luring them in, that means we gotta make it seem like the Pass is the last place we want ‘em to go,” Suri said. “Lahati’s place isn’t actually in Krivan Pass, yeah?”

  “No. There’s one really obscure portal that leads there.”

  “Right. Then this has gotta look like a proper last stand, with us all fleeing in terror.” She tapped the southern entry to the Pass. “This bottleneck here is pretty great. Let’s say we have a garrisoned force lying in wait here and here. The ships lead them right through the middle, and we kill’em. More Yanik Rangers would be great, but I dunno if we have time to finish that side-quest.”

  Rin gnawed on her bottom lip. “I don’t think so.”

  “What is the third stage?” Admiral Gehlan asked.

  “If it looks like the undead will break through the Pass – and realistically, there’s so many of them that they probably will – we retreat to Litvy,” I said. “Our troops and Heroes in Litvy will have been busy all this time: recruiting, building, fortifying. The defense at Litvy will prepare as if the approaching undead army is arriving at maximum strength. The retreating force will make the road to Litvy as difficult as it can be before he reaches the highlands.”

  Admiral Gehlan nodded, stroking his long white moustache. “The ground of the Pass is almost impossible to negotiate by foot right now. Our air power is going to be decisive against a ground force. We need more ships.”

  “For sure,” Suri replied. “Have to be in Litvy to get those.”

  “Are we planning to evacuate the majority of the force from the Prezyemi Line today, then?” Istvan asked me.

  I nodded. “Like I said: starting tonight, we send people to Litvy and the Pass to begin preparations. I vote we conscript every able body to start building ramparts and digging trenches on 8-hour rotations. Any personnel or civilian who volunteers 24 hours of hard work gets first pass out of here to Litvy. All buildings are to be stripped and relocated. We leave enough munitions and men to hold the Wall for the assault.”

  “You want the Gul Dam destroyed in advance?” Viktor said.

  I gave him a sharp nod. “As soon as Slutlava is cleared of people.”

  “We’re gonna need ships from Litvy and Boros ASAP,” Suri said. “We don’t have enough for the evac.”

  I was about to disagree, but took a second to glance at the Mass Combat menu and the capacity of the aircraft we had. We technically had enough to move about 14,000 people, but… “You’re right. Between Slutlava and the garrison, we’re gonna need more ships.”

  “We need Lord Soma to acquire more airships,” Viktor spoke up, his voice reedy and dry. “Let Rin and I speak to him and see if we cannot convince him to join this effort. It is a well-thought out and feasible plan, though we shall be exhausted by the time the Demon arrives.”

  “Better tired than dead,” Suri said.

  Viktor bowed his head. “Indeed.”

  “I think it is desperate and risky,” Ur Gehlan said. His brother nodded. “But the situation is desperate.”

  Suri snorted, crossing her arms. “Yeah. The time for safe bets was about two months ago.”

  “If you’re all happy with this strategy, I’m going to meet with each of you to work out tactics through the night. We’ll adjust the plan accordingly.” I looked around the table, then back to Zlaslo and Vash. “Any questions?”

  "The final retreat is not a certain thing," Viktor said nervously. "If the timing of the dam and wall demolition is not extremely precise..."

  "Take it from me: death is nothing to fear, old man," Vash grunted. "If we die in an explosion or a flood, then we die in such a way that we cannot be reanimated into the walking dead. It is a good and natural thing."

  "Exactly," Suri said.

  "I'll help protect the ships! Don't worry!" Karalti bared her teeth and tossed her chin up at Viktor.

  The Baru sighed, then shook his head. “My only concern is that we should have moved earlier. Many will suffer regardless of what we do.”

  “Indeed. But not as many as before.” Taethawn, who had been lounging in silence, pricked his ears and sat up straighter. “Lord Soma could still be the death of this place if we lag.”

  I held up a hand. “That’s enough ragging on Soma for today. He fought, he lost, and he has been honorable enough that if he’s sorry for what he’s done, I’ll believe him. We’ll try and get through to him. Until then-”

  There was a pounding on the door, and everyone turned as it burst in ahead of a Yanik scout. The man was wild-eyed with fear. “Mayevi! Da ruyê! Da ruyê!”

  Zlaslo and Istvan both shot to their feet. Istvan spoke first. “Da deruyê su yeh? Aksafi Vlachii!”

  “What is it?” Suri and Karalti both stood in alarm. I straightened up at the end of the table.

  “The gate! The Demon has sent an emissary onto the field, to the Waterfall Gate!” The man babbled in Vlachian. All the Yanik were hardened vets, but this man’s dark skin was ashen gray with fear. “My lords… It is Count Bolza.

  Chapter 42

  The former Voivode of Myszno waited for us on the other side of the gates, as patient as the dead. He sat astride an eerily still and silent T.rex, a slender ten-foot lance resting over one shoulder and a banner stand resting in a bracket on his saddle. The banner was a simple ragged swatch of black linen. It depicted a skeletal hand with the index and middle finger raised, the thumb crossed over the palm. Underneath it was tied a long fluttering ribbon of wh
ite cloth.

  "Well, fuck me. Does this madness never end?" Vash shaded his eyes and peered out over the wall.

  "Never." Istvan stared bleakly in the direction of his former liege lord, the telescope he was using to look at him hanging from numb fingers. "Vash - go rally the officers and get the men down off the walls. I will talk to him. Hector, Suri, Rin: will you come?"

  “Wait. You can’t just waltz down there like a loon, Arshak.” Vash scowled, catching his wrist. “Even a dragon cannot hit a wraith. We don’t know how many ghosts he stuffed up his ass.”

  “I’ll go rally the officers, then,” Rin said. “Vash, you go down with them if you’re worried.”

  “Euch. No, it’s okay.” He rolled his eyes. “You all just go down there without me. I’ll stay here alone, in the dark, going blind.”

  “Don’t tempt me.” Istvan sniffed.

  Bolza stood motionless as Suri, Rin and Istvan descended the Waterfall Gate elevator with Cutthroat and Istvan’s hookwing. Karalti launched from the edge of the wall with me on her back. We glided around in a tight circle to land gracefully on the stinking mud, about twenty feet away from Lord Bolza.

  The undead lord stared through us with pitiless green eyes. He had been a handsome man in life, square-jawed, with a salt and pepper beard and the beginnings of a paunch. Karalti stood eye-to-eye with his T.rex mount. It hadn’t been dead for that long – maybe a couple of days. Flies buzzed around its empty eye sockets. The dinosaur had been gutted, and its bloodless skin had retracted over its bare ribs, baring flesh crawling with insects.

  "From this rather pointed message, I’m guessing the Tiranozavir tribe got their asses handed to them," I said to Karalti.

  "Uh huh." She held her ground, her tail lashing stiffly behind her.

  The others fell in beside us, and there was a moment of silence.

  "My lord," Istvan said heavily. "I prayed you would be spared. I prayed you had died in a such a way they could not puppet your corpse for their own ends... but it seems the gods are deaf as well as blind."

  "You think I am to be pitied, Istvan?" The undead lord's lips were blue and stiff, and barely moved. His voice was hollow, but he was well-spoken and clear. "In truth, I am better than I have ever been. Lord Ashur has given me the greatest of gifts: a new life, free of pain, free of suffering. Eternal. Rational. Impartial. It is I who should pity you."

  "Rational? There’s nothing rational about a walking dead man," Istvan replied. "What do you want?"

  "I am here on behalf of my eternal Master, Lord Ashur of the Ten Thousand Swords, the Ox of the River and Champion of the Breathless," Bolza replied. His teeth flashed with an odd metallic gleam. "I come to make a once-and-final offer. Stand down and let us through the Krivan Pass. If we find what we are looking for, we will take back what is rightfully ours and then depart from this land. If you do not surrender, we will destroy the remainder of all you love."

  I kept my expression neutral, even as my chest thrilled with excitement. Target confirmed: they were after the Dragon Gate, and they thought it was north. "We don't know what you want. Litvy? Our ships? Our land? An offer is supposed to have terms. What terms are you offering?"

  “Your lives.” Bolza didn't blink. He only breathed to speak. "The Ducal seat has fallen. You are in no position to make demands of Lord Ashur."

  "I'm not demanding anything. I'm asking a question," I replied. "Because Napath and Vlachia haven't had any contact, good or bad, for thousands of years. Your story doesn't hold up. There’s nothing here that's rightfully yours."

  "There is," the undead count replied. "The blood, soul, and fertility of Napath were stolen by the dragons and bought here. Our mana fuels your farms, and your machines, and your monuments. The forests of Myszno bloom from the ruin of our lands. My Master's people waited for millennia until you were weak and fat and decadent. They waited, planning to take back what they are rightfully owed. That time is now."

  "That makes no sense." Rin stepped up beside my shoulder. "The best time to have taken Myszno would have been when Lawislaw Corvinus the Burned conquered the Sathbari and the Yanik. There’s been hardly any potable mana for centuries.”

  Lord Bolza's expression was as serene and expressionless as a Roman sculpture. He said nothing.

  I stood up on Karalti’s back and leaned forward. “You're looking for the Great Wellspring, right? Well, it's too late. It's gone. Veles took it with him to his grave. There’s no more mana in Myszno, except for what you’ve been draining from the land."

  Bolza finally stirred. "The Great Wellspring is not what we seek. If you do not stand down, we will continue our advance and crush you. Our army now numbers in the hundreds of thousands. You stand no chance against us."

  “Okay. We’ll go and discuss this and then return to give you your answer.” I jerked my head back toward the wall.

  "As you wish." Bolza rotated his head slightly to look at Istvan.

  "I wish for none of this." Istvan seemed to age ten years as he gazed at his old friend. "But one thing before we depart. What happened to your beloved Oksana? What about your children? Ivan? Your daughter, Zophia?"

  A tic jumped near Lord Bolza’s bloodless mouth. Then he sneered, pulling his lips back to flash top and bottom rows of gleaming metal fangs. When he spoke, his tone was guttural. "They march with the other thralls."

  Istvan flinched as if he had been struck. He turned his face.

  "The House of Bolza is dead," he said bitterly. "Long live the House of Dragozin."

  We turned as a group and trudged off through the mud to gather in a circle some hundred feet away.

  “It seems you are correct,” Istvan said gloomily. “They are here searching for the Dragon Gate. Their advance through Myszno will not cease until they find it.”

  “How did you learn this?” Rin asked.

  I slid down Karalti’s shoulder and dropped to the ground, standing under the shelter of her wing. “I think I mentioned at the meeting, but there's an entry to Lahati's Tomb in Krivan Pass. I fell into it when I killed the Warsinger-"

  Rin bristled like a startled cat. "When you killed the WHAT!?"

  "The.. uh... the Warsinger." I grinned at her sheepishly. "The entry to the Tomb was guarded by the oldest and weakest of the Warsingers, Nocturne Lament. I had to destroy it.”

  “There was one of those here?!” Rin clapped her hand over her mouth. “Hector… if we can take that to Litvy, I can study it! We-”

  "People have searched for Lahati's Tomb for thousands of years all around the province," Istvan interrupted her. "And you're saying you stumbled into it via one of the most travelled passes in Myszno?"

  “Sort of. There was a…” I hesitated, remembering the sepulcher with all its undisturbed, currently unguarded treasure. “A deep cavern with a shrine to Matir, that contained a one-way portal to Lahati’s Tomb in the northern mountains.”

  Suri looked between us. “Did any of you listen when he said that their army is now numbered in the hundreds of thousands? We were planning for fifty thousand, maybe up to eighty thousand.”

  “Yeah. But it doesn’t change that much of the plan. This is the best chance we have to take that hundred thousand down to something manageable,” I said. “Were there airships in Karhad, Istvan?”

  “A few,” he replied. “Most of them were destroyed in the invasion. There’s probably no more than six, and they must be piloted by Navigators… if the crews are dead, the undead cannot field them effectively. They must know the specific Words of Power.”

  “Let’s assume they can field half a Vlachian fleet.” Suri looked out over the ruin of the battlefield. “We’re going to have to blow those dams just right to have a hope in hell of escaping.”

  “Plan for the worst, hope for the best!” Rin pumped the air with her fist. “I’m sure we can get it organized!”

  Suri grimaced. “Plan for the worst, expect the worst. This is war, not a game.”

  Rin stuck her lip out slightly. “It IS a game.�
�

  Istvan shot her a dark look, then slowly glanced to me. “We will stay our course, Your Grace?”

  “Yeah.” I rolled one shoulder, then the other. “Let’s go tell him where he can shove that lance.”

  Lord Bolza wasn’t in any rush. He hadn't budged from the spot, and his T.rex had almost sunk to its knees in the soft, boggy ground by the time we slogged back over to him.

  The vampire looked down his nose at us. "What is your conclusion?"

  "Our conclusion is that your Master can politely go and stake himself," I said. "We're not letting you through. You massacred the people of Myszno. Ashur the Cow Patty of the River or whatever he calls himself has to account for all the misery he's caused."

  A pity." Bolza's dead grey eyes flicked between us. After examining each face, he made a soft sound under his breath. "Master Ashur has no love of suffering. He simply wishes to return what belongs to Napath."

  "He has to get through the Prezyemi Line first." I crossed my arms.

  The vampire gave me a strange, sad look. "He will."

  We watched as he pulled his mount around. The T.rex lowered its rotting head and began to lumber off toward the tree line.

  “Karalti. Bioscan that guy.” I ordered her.

  “What are your…?” Istvan froze as a dark nimbus gathered around my dragon’s body, then discharged. “What are you doing?”

  Jozef Bolza [Nasaku Thrall, Anti-Paladin]

  Sex: N/A

  Level 25

  HP: 4000/4000