by R. J. Batla
“I don’t think –”
“You’re not paid to think.”
“What happens if Jayton Baird actually gets to the tournament?”
“He won’t.”
“Just say he does. Why not let the Uland kill him? They say he’s basically invincible.”
“Too much risk, too much chance. The Morsenube is more powerful, and if he loses control, he could defeat the likes of even the Uland.”
“And what if Jayton wins?”
The boss looked terrified. “Then he’ll get the Darkstone, which will amplify the Morsenube, and make him even more powerful than he is now. He’s already more dangerous than Malstrak ever was – his power levels are so much higher. If he gets the Darkstone, we’re all in danger.
“Malstrak was after the Darkstone, or something similar, when he came across my family and killed them all. Just because they might have information he needed. That infernal power pushed him, gave him an insatiable bloodlust.” He grabbed the executioner by his collar. “I will not have that happen to anyone else, do you hear me? No more lives will be lost to the Morsenube!”
Chapter 43
Already on board the train, I watched Leona through the window and sighed. I wish my mind would leave her alone. Despite any feelings either one of us had, I couldn’t be with her. I was pretty sure she favored me, but it wouldn’t be fair to start something now. Not with me going into the tournament, and being a target all the time. No matter how much I wanted it, it wasn’t the right time.
Plus, she was a different class all together. Me, hicktown. Her, uptown. Them thar ingredients don’ mix tha’ well.
“All aboard!” came the call across Harlingon Station.
“Finally,” Royn said.
Everyone loaded up. With a blow of the whistle, the train pulled away. Rolling plains of farms and pasture whizzed by us the first day and a half, alternating between cows, sheep, and grain blowing gently in its eternal dance with the wind. It was peaceful. The clatter and rattle of the train almost lulling me to sleep every minute.
Everyone kind of kept to themselves, me included. This was it. The journey had started. I was really going to do it. To fight. To win. To battle for my life, my country, and for peace. Holy crap.
November was a little late to be bringing in a crop, but harvesters could be seen now and again, the big mechanical devices separating the wheat from the chaff, keeping the former and discarding the latter. Like the Angels on the Lord’s Day.
“Now look here, Celeste, I was just trying to…” Troup said.
“I know exactly what yar trying to do, Dwarf! I know you and Ice Man over there don’t want women on this trip! Think we’re too fragile to be trained in combat!” She shoved him against the wall of the car. “Well, do I feel fragile, Dwarf?”
Morgan said, “Celeste, calm down…”
“No, I will not tolerate this behavior any longer!”
“And neither will I!” Royn said. “Jay, separate them!” Grabbing the two with my telekinesis, I spread my arms and they were pulled to opposite sides of the car, fighting to get to each other.
“All I said was ‘Can I get you a glass of water?’ What gives?” Troup said.
Royn silenced Celeste before she could speak. “We’re not even two days into this mission and you’re already fighting. This isn’t about you. It isn’t even about Jayton. It’s about our freedom, our way of life, and all the blessings we’ve been given. We’ve got a long road ahead, and if you don’t pull yourselves together, you’re gonna get us all killed or even worse! Take it easy. Work together. Do you understand?” After everyone nodded, Royn turned and went back to the end of the car, muttering to himself.
Letting them go, Troup came and sat by me. “Sorry about that, Jay.”
“Do you really think women can’t fight?” I asked. “You have seen them in training, right? I mean, you were right there.”
“No, I don’t think that. But many of my Dwarf brethren do. Same with the Helion. Women are held back from being trained in combat. They’re trained with their powers, but for working at home or in various other jobs. Never for war.”
“Seems kinda silly to me,” I said. “We’re going to need all the help we can get.”
Troup grinned. “Yeah, this war will be different. Maybe my people can see the light. Maybe they’ll realize that men and women are equal. Different, but equal.” He looked out the window and watched the swaying grass.
Funny – as I looked at Troup, I really found it odd that he was clean shaven. Dwarves were never clean shaven. “Um, Troup?”
“Yes?”
“Was there a particular reason you were chosen to be on this mission? I mean, you’re an amazing fighter, but it just seems that –”
He sighed. “Took you long enough, Jayton. Yes, there’s a reason. Many of the races, mine included, think this is a waste of time. That the Wall will hold, and that we’re going on a suicide mission. They don’t expect us to return.”
“Well that’s comforting.”
Troup grinned again. “Yeah. Well, several years ago I was responsible for a disaster within the Dwarf kingdom. Saved a bunch of lives, but caused several more deaths and lots of property damage. They couldn’t do anything to me, but it really pissed off the king, so ever since then, he’s been looking for a way to get me out of the Dwarf army. Then you came along,” he said, patting my back. “And here I am.”
“It’s similar for me, Jayton,” Arp Bardwell said, sitting on my other side. “I defended people of other races, going against the Helion at the times. I was right, but that didn’t change the fact that I’d broken Helion law. They couldn’t banish me, but they could choose which missions I was sent on. They’ve given me the most dangerous missions, especially those that have kept me away from my home for as long as possible.”
“That’s terrible!” I said, then looked at the rest of the group. “Is that why you are all here?”
“No, mate,” Celeste said, handing Troup a glass of water. “Some of us were assigned for other reasons. Some of us volunteered. But make no mistake, we’re here for ya, and will defend ya until the end. We’ve seen what ya can do. We’re with you, Jayton Baird.”
As everyone muttered in agreement, I wondered if we even had a real chance. Or if some people were worth saving.
Then we got to the East Gate. And it was huge. Harlingon had it beat for sheer size, but not by much. The massive structure of white stones easily spanned the mile-long gap in the mountains, seamlessly merging with the stone where you couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began. A hundred yards thick, twenty-five stories tall, with one big opening in the middle to allow traffic to pass, such as the train we were on. As we entered the tunnel, the sun disappeared for a few seconds before reappearing, revealing two huge stone and metal gates, ornately decorated but built for defense with spikes and iron plates integrated throughout.
“How do they close them? Those things are huge!” Anton asked. “They’ve each got to weight at least a couple hundred tons!”
“With several hundred Earth Senturians on each gate, that’s how,” Troup replied, hanging his head out the window to get a better look. “Once them babies are closed, it’s a mighty big thing getting them open again.”
The next four and a half days were slower going, as the train traveled at half the speed of a snail – OK, maybe that’s how it felt – working its way past the preparations being made the entire length of the pass.
“What is all this?” Katy asked.
“Defense preparations,” Celeste said.
“Yeah, but why?” Gilmer asked.
“In case the Wall and the West Gate fall,” Sonora said.
“Is that even a possibility? What could get through those gates? I’ve heard the West Gate and the Wall are even bigger and stronger than the East?” Arp Bardwell said.
“They are,” Royn confirmed, looking at the preparations with a critical eye. Every so often, he would use his badge to talk to s
omeone outside the train, telling them to correct some mistake they were making.
“So I was wrong – my commanding officers are scared, along with everyone else in the military? They think we can’t keep these things out if our mission fails?” Troup exclaimed, a bit puffed up, like he was going to stand in the middle of the West Gate and throw the defenders back all by himself.
“It’s not that,” Leona said, in a quiet voice. “It’s that they can’t.”
“Can’t what?” three people asked at once.
Leona shook her head. “Can’t run the risk. It’s a numbers game; a game of chance. Where to place your bets? If we fail at the Wall, and no prep was made, the enemy would have a clear shot to the East. If we do prepare, how much, and would those resources have been better spent beefing up the defense at the Wall? Time, money, materials – where to do what and when. It’s unclear as to the correct course of action.”
“But we won’t fail! We can’t! The Wall will hold – it has to!” Troup said, looking around for support.
Leona shook her head. “Hmm. We can fail. It’s a possibility. But one of many. I’ve got a strange feeling about this pass. Strange. Like it’s nervous.”
That shut everyone up for a while. How could a pass be nervous?
Especially this one. It looked like someone had carved a square valley right out of the middle of these massive mountains. Sheer cliffs on both sides shot straight up in the air for a half mile, smooth with time and work, no handholds or footholds. If you were coming down the middle of the valley, you could only go east and west. There was no up, even for most Senturians. Add in all the traps, machinery, and overall defenses that were currently being installed or added to, and it would take a miracle for anyone to get through alive.
After waiting for a particularly large piece of machinery to move, the West Gate was revealed to us. Which was pretty much the East Gate, just a little bit bigger. By a little bit, I mean twice the size. The Gate was surrounded by the sheer cliff pass, looking as smooth as glass as far as you could see either way, trying to touch the sky and damn near succeeding.
The Gate itself looked to be able to stand an earthquake, tornado, hurricane, volcano, and explosion all at the same time. The gray stone melded smoothly with the mountains, the battlements bristling with all types of anti-siege weapons, people, and contraptions I’d never seen before.
We continued on, watching the preparations being made between the West Gate and the Wall, which were extensive. One more day passed before we exited at the terminal at the Wall.
Chapter 44
To say the Wall and the Wall Gate were huge was an understatement. They were monumental. Mountainous. Awe inspiring. Something people wrote home about. Hell, something people wrote books about. How could someone build something like that? Excuse me, how could a man build something like that? It was almost as big as the cliffs we had just left the day before.
“Whew!” Anton whistled. “Not sure they made it big enough.”
Katy said, “Look at the columns, the stairs, the back braces…”
“It might as well be a canyon wall,” Troup said. “I’ve heard stories, but they don’t do it justice.”
Tons and tons of stone rose up before us, stark white mixed with gray. I don’t know what kind of rock it was, but there was a lot of it. Hundreds of feet high, the walls stretched out in either direction until they disappeared out of sight. Sloping up from the ground, the Wall supported itself all the way up till its battlements. The people walking on it looked like ants. The Wall Gate jutted out on this side, and provided stairs, elevators, support, and anything a defender would need.
“There’s one of the scars, boys and girls,” Euless said, pointing. Right in the middle of the wall was an enormous scorch mark, like someone had taken a blowtorch to the wall, melting stone and turning almost everything around it black.
“So that’s what Malstrak can do? Psssh, this ought to be easy,” Gilmer said, as we watched the scar getting bigger as we approached. “Although, if there’s one on the other side, maybe it’s more impressive.”
Square and imposing, the structure was incredible, and we continued to stare at it until the train screeched to a halt. There was power in the Wall. No one was really sure how it was there or even how the thing was built, but what we did know that there was enough power to repelled all attacks. Anything that approached or touched or tried to go over the Wall would be thrown back by an unknown force. Several attempts had been made over the years, and each one ended the same.
The one weak point – if you could call it that – was the Gate. The power didn’t extend to the stone in the gates. Not that it made it any easier to get through, with the myriad of defenses in and around the Gate. It would take an army more than a million strong to get through there, and they would still need help.
Exiting onto the platform at the station, I was tripping over myself staring at the immense structure. Royn gathered us off to the side. “Team, this way. We need to meet our handler.”
What is a handler, and why do we need one?
I said it in my head. Royn didn’t stop, clearly was in a hurry with no time for questions. Walking through an archway directly into the Wall itself, Royn lead us down a winding bunch of hallways until the space opened up to a huge room, more or less circular, with stone screens displaying various parts of Terraunum. One looked like the East Gate, and many more showed scenes of prep work going on in locations I didn’t recognize. In the center of the room, lines and lines of people sat at desks, each with their own little black stone screens, tapping at keyboards and talking into amplistones that were connected to ear muffs that must have been transferring the audio to them somehow.
I had never seen this type of technology, and apparently most of the others hadn’t either, judging by their awed expressions. “This is Command Central,” Royn said. “And this is our handler, Heath Goodrich,” he said, pulling someone from behind him. “I’ll let him explain the rest.”
“Ladies and germs,” Heath said, with an odd little wave. He had thick glasses, beady little eyes, a wiggly nose, and a pointed face. Put some whiskers on there and he was a mouse. “Let’s walk and talk.” He turned on his heel, with us crowding around and trailing behind. “Command Central is where all the magic happens. All the screens you see are computers, with other handlers at the controls. Our generals and other commanders sit there.” He pointed to a circular table with a model of the Wall and all the surrounding area. Made of a mix of energy and sand, the model was intriguing to look at – it even showed the people moving around. As we walked by, someone moved a dial and the whole model zoomed out, showing even more of the area. “They direct all the actions. Commands are relayed from there to the handlers, from the handlers to various commanders across the battlefield, and then to the individual units and soldiers.”
“To coordinate attacks. Very good,” Arp said from above us. “But how do they…”
“With these,” Heath said, producing a box. I swear he wriggled his nose. In the box were little tooth-shaped rocks. “Small amplistones, which fit in your ear. Each commander will have one and can hear their orders and report back. In your case, each of you will have one, as you’re on a special mission.” He passed those to each of us.
We put them in our ears.
“They also link you to the other members of your unit, so no matter the distance, you can talk to each other. These will aid you in your mission, and I can help and provide updates for you from here.”
“Thanks, Heath. We’ll be in contact. Everyone, we have to move to make our next transport – we’re about to be stuck going the long way around,” Royn said, ushering us back the way we came.
I shook Heath’s hand as I walked by. “Thank you for helping us, sir. I look forward to working with you.”
“The honor is mine, Fire Eyes. I know you won’t let us down.”
I hoped he was right.
Royn led us down several hallways, then we rounded a corn
er, where Councilman Ames Talco was talking to General Sterling. “If I’m not mistaken, they should be here any minute.”
“Councilman Talco, even if this band of heroes you’ve put together succeeds, what’s to say that Malstrak wouldn’t win anyway and come at us to defeat our forces? What are the odds? Quis custodiet ipsos custodes?”
“What does that mean?” I asked, as we walked up on the two men talking. General Sterling scowled, but Ames turned and smiled.
“Who guards the guardians?” Ames asked. “We’ll just have to pray our preparations are enough and that our friends here can accomplish their goal.”
“Understood, Councilman.” General Sterling eyed us, flipping his scowl into a grin. “Gentlemen, might I have a word with our young champion?”
“But of course,” Councilman Talco said, ushering the general toward me.
“General, nice to see you,” I said, offering my hand. He shook it quickly and without any strength. Limp fish. Not at all what I expected.
“Same to you, soldier. Tell me, how are you doing?” he said, walking off to the side and ushering me to follow with his hand on my shoulder.
“Oh, you know, as good as I can be, I suppose.”
“Good, good. How has your training gone?”
“Great! I think I’m ready.”
“You…think…” he said. “Tell me, have you had any more…Morsenube outbursts?”
I jerked my head back. “No, sir, I’ve got it under control – you saw my demonstration.” I rubbed my right wrist where the tattoo was.
His eyes flicked to my hands then back to my face, smiling. “Good, good. I will wish you the best of luck!”
“Team, a word?” Councilman Talco said. “Thank you, General. I’ll catch up with you later.”
“Very well, Councilman. I wish all of you the best of luck,” he said, then ducked around a corner, cloak billowing in the wind. Weird – I’d never seen a general wear a cloak before. I wasn’t even sure how it attached to his uniform.