Lomans, his faithful captain, was scanning for possible signs of danger around them. “Everything’s in order, General. It’s a wide plain; we’ll be able to rest with no nasty surprises. You and you!” he shouted at two soldiers. “Head to the forest line and fetch some dry wood for a fire. You,” he said, pointing at another soldier. “Go and fetch some stones and get a pile of earth ready to put the fire out fast when we have to leave. Flint!”
Lomans went on inspecting the area thoroughly while the others pitched camp. They had to be careful about various dense bushes that could serve as hiding-places for brigands.
Something kept him thinking of other matters. There was a strange disturbance in his mind, as if he could perceive something living and yet dead, though not necessarily evil. The captain had seen his fair share of animated corpses in his time in the militia. Every time he saw a necromancer wield powerful spells to use the dead as tools of destruction, he always cringed. It was never a pretty picture, the sight of the dead walking. Warring against powerful dark mages was not something most Mandrakians were used to. Since the defeat of Némaldon four centuries ago, powerful mages rarely crossed the borders. Wars were mostly waged against other living men, either deserters or rebellious dukes seeking their independence from the crown. It had been more than half a century since any duke had tried his luck against the Imperial Army.
Lomans took up his shield and unhooked his morning star. His dark eyes tried to penetrate the dense darkness. Some of the others noticed his alertness; Gramal readied his claymore, and Lulita got out her bow and nocked an arrow. Savarb watched them, unable to do anything because of the deep cut in his ribs, which still burnt with pain.
They heard footsteps. Had the walking dead caught up with them? Most animated corpses were slow, simply because most corpses were heavily damaged at the time of their death; they were mutilated and walked or crawled slowly, although surely. The endurance of animated corpses was well known. It was said that their endurance came from the rotten, evil souls that animated them in the first place.
Lomans flinched. He was about to give a deadly swing with his morning star, but something stayed his hand. Someone with only one arm appeared, pale-faced, his gaze blank. In his remaining hand, he carried a bloodied sword. Lomans thought he had seen this young man. Yes, the retarded one. He was surely possessed! It would be better to end this young man’s life once and for all. It would be a mercy.
“Wait, wait!” Lulita ran to stand in front of the dead boy with her arms outstretched as though to protect him. “He’s a poor boy, not an enemy! His name’s Mowriz! He’s one of us! Stop, for goodness’ sake!”
Luchy came to join the old woman. “That’s right! Mowriz is one of ours. I’m surprised he’s managed to follow us.”
Lomans relaxed when the general touched his shoulder.
“I’ve seen that boy around the village, and so have you, my faithful captain. He used to prowl about the pit day and night, and he always used to say—”
“Sun, little sun,” Mowriz muttered.
Lomans lowered his shield and hung up his morning star. “And how has he followed us?” was all he said.
His doubts were reasonable enough. The boy had found them despite his physical handicap and his limited understanding. Or perhaps he understood more than they thought.
The young man advanced through the group. He moved slowly, sometimes glancing to either side. His strange behavior made many feel uncomfortable. He must surely be dead. But he was not an enemy. Or was he alive but very ill? Nobody knew.
Strangelus never took his eyes off him; he had always suspected that the boy had not been born that way but had been bewitched. He had never dedicated time or attention to the young man’s nature but was suddenly interested in the ailment that limited his mind and soul. Was it a powerful spell? It did not appear to be.
Dinner was a frugal one. Because of the urgency of their flight, they had no supplies and had to feed on what the forest offered. Tomasa caught three squirrels with stones. They cooked them over the fire and ate them in absolute silence, mourning over all that had happened lately. Three squirrels made a small morsel for the youngest and weakest. Small fruits and seeds were shared out among the soldiers.
Night fell, and the soldiers succumbed to sleep. They took turns to keep watch, although Lomans stayed awake all the time.
The general did not sleep either. He sat down on a rotting trunk, beside his captain, both sunk in melancholy silence.
“We were fooled, just as you said, General,” said the captain boldly. “It’s impressive how close we were to dying. Whoever tricked us still has us by the balls. I always said we were ill-equipped. Coming south was a terrible idea. The land is cursed. It was obvious we should have prepared the army three years ago. We’ve lost good men, General. Good men that I grew up with and saw fight in lesser battles. I promoted a few myself.”
“Aye, we lost good men,” said the general. “Whoever did this to us is doing it to the Empire. That foul voj confirmed our suspicions. Someone has betrayed us. That someone is surely plotting to undo the Empire. Listen, Lomans.” Leandro turned his gaze from the fire to look at the captain. “We must reach the North as quickly as possible! It doesn’t matter if the king is warned if the Army doesn’t have its leaders to guide it in the battle that will result from the demons marching towards the head of the Empire.”
“Agreed, General,” said Lomans. “We’ll carry out our mission. You should ride north on one of those horses. You among us, and the head mage, are the ones who might make a true difference in the upcoming battle.”
“Never. I won’t leave in a cowardly fashion.” But deep down inside him, he was saying this because he was afraid of leaving his family behind.
“At least Omen has Hakama,” said Lomans.
“That’s true. The captain of the Brutal Fark-Amon is certainly a venerable soldier. But the regular soldiers won’t follow him into the devil’s mouth. Hakama leads the Brutal Fark-Amon, and that’s it. The battle can’t be won by the Brutal Fark-Amon alone. They number a total of two hundred at most. This is a battle where we need soldiers by the many thousands. Only the Imperial Army can provide that.”
“Agreed,” said the captain.
Lulita and Tomasa fell asleep from sheer exhaustion. As Wild Women, they knew how to set their worries aside and give their bodies the rest they needed.
Luchy was lying with her eyes wide open, watching the clouds float by and the twinkling of the stars. Beside her slept the young man of faith called Argbralius. She did not know what to think of him. At least she was sure that as a sacristan, the boy would not be interested in her in the way the others were, and this eased her mind. All the same, she did not know how to classify him. She could sense strange energy in him that puzzled her.
Luchy’s mind raced back to her beloved. He had come and left so fast. He had wings! He was the God of Light! But being courted by a god was not as amazing as it sounded. Luchy was genuinely worried. Did Manchego now belong to another species, another race? If she married Manchego, would they be able to have children? Would those children be born with wings? Would they be normal? Wait, he had said he was a demigod, a cross between a human and a god. What did it mean, exactly, to be a god? She was breathing faster. Her throat was tight. She decided to focus on the moment she was experiencing, on the blessing of still being in this world despite so much evil. As much as Manchego’s new appearance and nature scared her, she was also very intrigued. And then there was always the topic of intimacy. How would it be to be intimate with Manchego?
She closed her eyes. Pleasant drowsiness invited her to dream. She was floating among the clouds, flying with Manchego.
A cold drop on her face woke her up.
***
At dawn, Lomans woke the soldiers one by one by shaking them and then moved to the villagers of San San-Tera.
The general was quick to call out orders. Captain Lomans relayed them to his men:
“We’ll
go on toward the North, through the Valley of the Spell. Those dense forests will help us to hide from the enemy. We’ll skirt the sides of the Marsemayo Volcano, pass through the estate of Licaf and Atisbar, and then through the Nírilos Forest. Then, we’ll go up the Irontangle Mountains and reach Kathanas at last.”
“Captain,” one of the soldiers said. “Without horses or supplies, it’ll take us about four weeks, and that’s if we’re lucky.”
The general went to stand beside the captain. He knew this was true. Besides, they had the added difficulty of traveling without emblems or flags which might identify them as part of the Imperial Army. They might be caught, might fall into the hands of criminal groups. They could be marked as deserters! They had to sketch out a plan, and quickly.
“We have five horses. Five of you could go ahead and get more in some village on the way,” said the general.
“That’s a good idea, General,” another soldier said. “But we’d risk having our animals stolen and then being stripped of everything. We can’t separate; there’s strength in numbers. Besides, some settlements aren’t the right place for women and girls.” He indicated Luchy and Lulita. “They’re full of people with a grudge, rapists, and all the other scum of the Empire.”
Lulita glowered at him, her eyes full of rage. She had fought in innumerable battles, shoulder to shoulder with the men, and she was still here, alive.
“If the general permits me, I’ll lead the five horsemen. Luchy can ride with me. Tomasa rides alone. Lombardo can take the girls. Gramal should stay with you, but we could use his mount to take more villagers with us. Savarb needs to ride. Of all of us, he has a mortal wound that needs healing quickly.”
Gramal nodded. “You may take my mount. How about the head mage?”
“I’m up and running ready for battle, my young pup,” barked the mage, suddenly looking young and refreshed. “Potions and rest will turn me back into the ever-lethal mage I’ve always been. We’ll continue our march to the North on foot. Lulita, please hurry and bring back reinforcements and supplies!”
“And the sacristan?” Lomans suggested. “The little chick barely knows how to use a sword.”
“Thank the Gods we have a man of faith with us,” Gramal said. “He’ll bring us luck.”
Argbralius was silent, his head bent so that nobody would notice how his face had reddened. They were talking about him as if he were an invalid, but they knew nothing about him or his strength. He had always been interested in matters of war and the shedding of other people’s blood. Bitterness rose in his gullet.
These soldiers have no idea of my destructive capacity! he yelled silently. I’ll make them pay!
A vision of his dead mother took shape in his mind’s eye. Ferlohren smiled at him and said, “No, my son. You must be a man of good. Do good. Share the words of the Gods and spread salvation throughout the Empire. You’re a man of good! Protect the soldiers’ souls from the grip of death!”
You’re dead, Mother. But I’ll honor your wishes. I’ll be a man of good! I’ll defend the Empire against those horrible demons!
“The road will take you directly to the Licaf and Atisbar estates,” the general replied. “On those horses, you should get there quickly, though you’ll be exposed to many dangers. What do you think, Strangelus?”
The old man was stroking his long beard, which was streaked with blood. “I think that the day’s getting on, and we’re still here in the same place. Make a decision, the sooner the better, and we’ll do what has to be done. Leandro, you must make sure you reach Kathanas. Without you, the Empire and the army will lose the best leader they could have. That’ll be this group’s mission: escort you to Kathanas, whatever the cost. That’s what I think. I suggest you ride with Lulita, Luchy, and Savarb to Kathanas.”
The soldiers whispered among themselves. This meant they would have to go on alone.
Lomans gazed at the general. He had proposed the same idea last night. If anybody had to make it north, it was the general. But now it was the head mage who was suggesting it, and his words carried more weight.
“You may be right, but I can’t leave my soldiers.” The general paced round in circles. After a brief silence, he stopped and announced his decision. “Very well. Lomans, you’ll stay with the soldiers and guide them to the North. Try to get hold of some horses. Strangelus is right: I’m the one who needs to reach Kathanas as soon as possible and organize the army. And to make that possible—” he looked at the mage “—you’re coming with me.”
Strangelus’ pupil began to feel nervous. He was not ready to part from his master.
“That’s an excellent idea, General,” said Lomans.
The soldiers relaxed. They trusted their captain.
“Then I must stay,” said Lombardo. “The children should still ride with you.”
“They’ll ride with me,” said Strangelus.
“I’ll take Lombardo’s mount,” said the general.
“I saw you wielding that old longsword,” said Lomans to Lombardo. “Have you had any military training?”
“No,” said Lombardo. “But I’m a survivor of the Massacre of San San-Tera, and I fought my way through hell.”
“We move north!” yelled Lomans. “We’ll ride at a brisk pace! We’ll stop at my sign!”
The villagers, mostly young men and women, were nervous at the thought of having to walk fast. But there was only a desire to run away from the village and reach safety. Safety? Was there anything safe now that the demons had overrun Ágamgor?
Deathslayer was weighing up the difficulties of the operation. The greater part of the army was in Omen, including other Brutal Fark-Amon in the process of training. To summon the Imperial Army required the unequivocal proof of a real threat, not to mention gaining the Council of Kings' approval. If there was a traitor among them, then summoning the army would be very difficult. If anybody could do it, it was him.
The general swallowed hard and felt his heart sink. This operation was the right thing to do. Lomans had been right. He was the one man who could guide thousands of soldiers to defend the Empire. However, it failed to quench his desire and longing to see his family safe. He was afraid for his wife and children. Leaving on horseback to Kathanas meant he would be very far from them. At the same time, he had a duty to the Empire. He had sworn fealty to the crown. He had to defend the Mandrake Empire against its mortal enemies.
“And what are we going to do with the retarded boy?” Lomans asked, sounding annoyed.
“You’ll look after him with all the respect a human being in need deserves.”
Lomans, now angry, glared at Mowriz with hatred.
Lulita and Luchy mounted Granola. Tomasa helped Savarb up on to his mount, then mounted Sureña herself. Strangelus mounted behind the young girls, while the general took Lombardo’s reins.
“His name is Marlo. He’s my horse, a thoroughbred. He won’t let you down, General.”
“Her name is Naya,” said Gramal to the mage. “Be careful with your foot. A slight nudge will make her ride like the wind. She’s the fastest mare I know.”
The mage did not plan to ride like the wind, still less with three young girls barely holding on to the saddle.
“To the North!” cried the general.
“Wait!” yelled the couple with the newborn babe. “Take him, please,” begged the father. He stretched out his hands and reached out for Lulita. The old Wild Woman was immediately taken aback by the gesture. It transported her to sixteen years ago when Eromes had been possessed by the madness of evil and given her a baby. The baby had grown to become the God of Light! Lulita knew she could not refuse. This baby could eventually turn out to be some marvel of the world; all she needed was to keep it safe. She saw it in the father’s eyes as he stood there with the treasure of his life in his hands. Because that is what babies are for a parent: the best of life’s blessing. She could see that the father knew he was going to die and was giving up to Lulita what was most precious to him.
The old Wild Woman’s eyes filled with tears. “I’ll take him.” A tear escaped her eyes, but the father did not understand the reaction. He held out the baby and gave it to Lulita.
“His name is Saluem.”
“I’ll make sure he’s delivered into safety,” said Lulita.
“My son!” yelled the mother. “Please, please. Make sure he lives well,” she sobbed openly.
The mother’s wails made everyone uneasy. The cries of despair and desolation were a reminder of the terrible times they were living through.
“We must go,” said the general with a lump in his throat. He had children, young ones. He could understand the parents’ pain all too well.
The animals trotted lightly away, on course to a destination as complicated as their journey itself, since they would still have to convince the government of the threat from Némaldon.
Ten soldiers, apart from Lombardo, Gramal, Argbralius, Elgahar, and Lomans, were left. Fifteen villagers who were as nervous and anxious as chickens. And Mowriz? The captain looked around in search of him until one of the soldiers touched his arm and pointed into the distance. The idiot was running after the horses.
“Wait! You bloody idiot,” he grumbled when he lost sight of him. “Well, he’s fast, the bastard. Right then, you useless bunch, you heard the general. Let’s begin our march.”
“Captain! Look!” yelled a soldier. A very small speck in the distance made its way towards them. It was not running but walking at a brisk pace. It had red eyes, and its mouth was open, dripping coagulated blood.
“The dead have found us!” yelled the captain. “On we go!”
Chapter XIV – To Kathanas
For two endless days Leandro, Strangelus, Lulita, Luchy, Tomasa, and Savarb rode like lunatics. They only stopped to drink, not even to eat. The three young girls riding with Strangelus were in a terrible condition and keeping them on the saddle was a great effort. Tomasa took two of them, and the other one rode with the general. The baby was always in Lulita’s arms, tucked in and safe. But there was no food for the baby, and without a mother to give it milk, the babe would surely perish. Two days without nourishment is a serious matter for an adult; for a baby, it is life-threatening.
Archangel’s Ascension Page 11