“It will be done, supreme mistress. And what has happened to these two?” Dator pointed at the two men lying on the ground behind her.
“The smaller one was stung by Zaydok’s tail and the other poisoned by his breath. I have given them both the antidote, so they should wake some time tomorrow morning with a mighty headache.” Dator nodded his understanding, bowed again, turned and started giving orders to the worg riders. Sylestra mounted Zaydok once again and set off to find her army.
She found them a short time later and smiled to herself. It had been a long time since she had gathered such a force together. Well over a thousand worg riders at the head followed by thousands of archers. A horde of her warriors equipped with all manner of weapons formed up in neat ranks behind the archers. All of that, though, was just for show. Her trump card was bringing up the rear — hundreds of orc and half-orc necromancers and necrolytes leading an animated army of over ten thousand skeletons and zombies.
She had not allowed any of her human magic users to come along as she still wanted all the orc tribes thinking that humans had been destroyed or for them to have forgotten about human’s altogether as O’tukka had informed her was the case with the Black Skull. She had a bulky outfit arranged for herself that gave her the physique of an orc and covered her face in deep shadow.
Zaydok landed near the head of the army and Sylestra jumped off nimbly and released her pet; she would ride a worg from this point on. She had a quick conference with General Jak’ho telling him what had transpired and letting him know that she had seen no sign of the enemy in her flight. After that she went and retrieved her outfit, put it on and then she found her worg and took up her place at the head of the army beside the general.
It was the middle of the afternoon before the walls of Izlalek came into sight and there was much activity upon them; the bright sunlight glinting off armour and weapon as the orcs of the Black Skull tribe organised their defence. The massive, dark stone walls were broken up by many towers which had catapults mounted on top. Beyond the wall, many high reaching buildings could be seen.
General Jak’ho efficiently got the army into formation a safe distance from the city walls. A wide clearance had been left running up the centre of the army and a solid wooden cart was being pushed to the front by a mass of skeletons; a long line of undead trailed behind the cart filling in the empty space.
They thoroughly doused the cart with water carried in buckets and then the rear door opened and ten necromancers climbed aboard. The door closed up behind them.
“Is the wind sufficient?” asked General Jak’ho. Sylestra nodded and so the general gave the command for the undead charge.
Once the cart was well out in front and the skeletons and zombies spread out around it, General Jak’ho ordered his archers forward. A short time later the cart and charging undead came under fire from the archers on the wall. For every skeleton knocked away from the cart, another soon took its place.
Sylestra’s animated soldiers were not easily killed. Arrows would hit them solidly and break some of their bones but they would charge on undeterred. It was only when their skulls became detached from their bodies or they had too many shattered bones when they no longer moved. Sylestra was pleased that it was greatly unnerving the defending army. They had no idea how to stop the creatures.
More effective were the flying stones launched from the catapults, but they were slow to reload and had limited ammunition. A bulky rock landed dangerously close to the cart which had Sylestra taking a deep breath; a lot was relying on that cart reaching the gate in one piece.
Then her archers came into range and took aim. Rather than a normal barbed arrow, these archers had a specially designed arrow with a thin glass canister at their head. The canisters were full of a liquid called Bunnmoss, which once exposed to the air, would start releasing a toxic gas. The gas was lethal if a large amount was inhaled, but as not much liquid was stored in the tips, a single arrow would not emit enough gas to prove fatal; it would, however, be enough to knock an orc unconscious for a time.
Thousands of arrows hit high up on the stone walls or the orcs on top of them, smashing open the glass canisters. A thin green fog formed on top of the wall and orcs began to cough and collapse. Soon after, the cart arrived at the gate and the front door swung down releasing a black mist. The insubstantial forms of the necromancers drifted forward on the wind, slowly seeping through the cracks of the gates.
Sylestra waited nervously. Few remained standing on top of the wall and the arrows had stopped. Meanwhile her own archers moved in closer and fired their special arrows over the wall which would hopefully provide some support for her necromancers.
The undead had reached the walls en masse and were climbing on top of each other in order to scale it. They needn’t have bothered for the city gates swung wide a moment later and the skeletons and zombies charged into the city, killing everything they encountered. General Jak’ho ordered a full charge and the ground shook as the worgs sprinted forward led by the general and Sylestra.
By the time Sylestra reached the city, the rout was on in full. Every soldier that fell, whether they be friend or foe, would soon rise again and join her ranks.
Sylestra noticed a small pocket of resistance near a large stone building and so she led a group of worg riders towards them. As she neared the enemy, she did a backflip off her worg allowing him to jump freely into the fray. She followed in his wake and cut down any orc trying to harm her worg from the side.
A large orc noticed her and came charging in with a pike levelled at her breast. She slapped the pike aside with her scimitar and continued to spin around to her right until she was facing the orc again with her dagger aimed at his throat.
The orc was quick enough to halt his charge and lean his head back to avoid the dagger. He slashed down with his curved dagger forcing her to pull back on her strike. The heavy outfit slowed her movement, but she was still much quicker than this orc. She turned side on and kicked out with her leg and followed with a jab of her scimitar which punctured his shoulder as he leaned forward to avoid her kick. A quick retraction and aggressive slice had the orcs throat cut open, spraying blood over all those nearby.
She reanimated the corpses in her immediate area and set them loose on the remaining enemies. Within moments the last of the group was cut down. Sylestra took a look around and could scarcely spot an enemy. Her army was moving methodically from building to building and killing all they found. Izlalek would be theirs before the sun set.
* * *
General Krak’too kicked open another house door and sent some orcs ahead of him to see if any were hiding within. They had been working their way systematically through the city since capturing it. Many of the township were under heavy guard in the building they called their City Hall. Thanks to Great Shaman O’tukka’s magic, most of the fighters had been delivered to Gnash to be contained until the fierce one decided what he was doing with them. His magic was running low and so they had had to move the rest into the City Hall for the night.
The general ordered any valuables to be gathered together which could be sent back tomorrow and he had many others working on defences. Word would soon spread about the loss of the city and he wanted to be prepared for any counter attack.
A scream from upstairs alerted him that someone else had been discovered hiding out. He raced up the stairs to see if he was needed. When he arrived, a man was lying face down on the floor and a half stripped woman was in the arms of one of his warriors with his hand firmly over her mouth.
“Clever hiding place,” said the orc holding the woman, nodding in the direction of a small room that had been concealed by a door looking very much like the rest of the wall.
“Is the man still alive?” asked Krak’too, pointing at the body on the floor.
“He’ll live. He’ll have a mighty headache for a while, but he’ll live.” The orc smiled a crooked smile.
“Take them to the City Hall and return here at o
nce,” ordered Krak’too as he walked out the door.
He trod back down the stairs and out the front door of the house. Looking along the wide cobbled street he saw they were making good progress. Most of the city had been checked and it was only early in the evening. He was not too far from the city centre which was crowded with the large houses of the wealthy. Lavishly decorated balconies hung over the street with high reaching gabled roof tops.
General Krak’too hurried through the street toward the western fringes to inspect the progress of the defences when he stumbled across Great Shaman O’tukka.
“So is the fierce one happy with all the captives we have sent to him so far?” asked Krak’too as the shaman took up step beside him.
“About the captives he is happy enough, but other news has him very much on edge.” Great Shaman O’tukka’s tone was grave, causing General Krak’too to stop walking and faced the shaman.
“What other news?” he asked.
“Izlalek has been captured by the Ta’zu,” replied Great Shaman O’tukka.
“What? When did this happen? Did you know they planned on attacking?” General Krak’too fired off his questions in quick succession. This news could be devastating to their plans.
“They assaulted the walls about noon. The city fell within a few short hours and no one had any idea the supreme mistress intended this and I’m not sure for what purpose she has done it.” Great Shaman O’tukka looked as unnerved as the general felt.
“How can a city of that size fall so fast? Is there some way you can find out what she intends?” asked Krak’too.
“The Ta’zu has a larger army than any other tribe and their dark magic is very powerful. I’m not sure if I can find out what the supreme mistress plans, but I can at least report in to see if she needs me for anything. I might gain some information that way,” replied O’tukka
“Then do that as soon as you have rested. I have a very bad feeling about this.” General Krak’too turned and walked off again leaving the shaman to do as instructed.
* * *
Pilk stepped out of his magical archway and back into his enchanted room. He had spent the rest of the day with Grand Master Reibeck, sharing knowledge of the current situation and discussing what to do about Grand Master Rotager and his lack of support. He was planning on spending the evening reading what now appeared to be books of ancient history until he heard raised voices downstairs. There’s always something distracting me from my studies, thought Master Pilk as he walked to the door.
“But I don’t want to go back,” screamed Jaz as Pilk started making his way down the stairs. It wasn’t the first time she had said that.
“I don’t care if you want to or not. Our home is in Zin-Baiden, our life is there, your studies. You were meant to have stayed there from the beginning, if you remember.” Jaz sat on a chair at the kitchen table with Cressida looming over her. The two boys were nowhere in sight — likely at sword practice with Decker.
“My studies are boring. They are teaching me stuff I already know and have known since I was eight. Just think how many more soldiers would have died if I hadn’t come? The temple here has seen my skills firsthand and wouldn’t waste time in training me the basics.” Jaz’s eyes were red and her face was set in a mask of defiance.
“Now, now, let’s all calm down a bit,” said Pilk as he approached. “Screaming matches seldom solve a thing, except perhaps who has the loudest voice.” Cressida and Jaz turned and glared at him as one. No mistaking them for mother and daughter. Wisely he did not utter his thoughts aloud.
“I wasn’t aware that you were home,” said Cressida in even tones. “I didn’t see you come in.”
“Yes, yes, a wizard has his ways you know. Now go and make us all a cup of hot choco Cressy, and then we can sit down and have a more civilised discussion.” Cressida shot him another glare but after a moment she complied.
“So you’re heading back to Zin-Baiden are you?” asked Pilk as Cressida sat down with the drinks, holding his hand up to stop Jaz’s forthcoming comment.
“I have achieved what I came here to do. Now I need to go back home and put my life back together.” Master Pilk noticed some hesitation in her voice.
“And what of Decker?” asked Pilk after taking a sip of his hot drink.
“I didn’t come here to fall in love. I’m not even sure how it happened or how it has moved so fast. So perhaps some space for a time would be good for both of us,” replied Cressida rather callously.
“No one plans to fall in love. It’s like the silent approach of the night that wraps you in darkness before you realise it.”
Cressida chuckled loudly. “Huh, love advice from my little brother. The fact that you compared love to the darkness tells me how little you know of love,” scoffed Cressida.
“Well perhaps my analogy was off, but my advice was otherwise sound. Running away from love won’t make you feel better. Does Decker agree with your decision to return home?” Pilk knew Decker well and that the ranger was deeply in love with his sister. He couldn’t think of a better man for her.
“Returning home is not an option,” said Cressida firmly, avoiding the question somewhat.
“Yes, yes I see. I know you must return home. I guess the question is more whether your return home is permanent or temporary?”
“Only time will tell. For now it is too dangerous here. The capture of Jaz and the boys is proof of that. I can’t watch them all the time, you are too busy to watch them at all and so is Decker. The boys should actually come and stay with me for a time until things calm down here.” Pilk noticed a slight reaction from Jaz at the last comment, hinting to him why his niece was not too happy about returning home.
“I could discuss that with the boys but I’m not sure that they would want to. They have Decker giving them sword fighting lessons and I am teaching Vik magic, as he seems to have some power there. They are happy here.
“As for the matter of it being too dangerous here, that will hopefully change in the next month or two. With the loss of so many in Arthea, there will be many opportunities and the city could use all the help it can get. If you don’t wish to leave Zin-Baiden, that is fine but make sure it is for the right reason. I know you still mourn the loss of your husband, but don’t let that stop you from being happy for the rest of your life.
“And as for you Jaz, Cressida is your mother. She cares for you and wants the best for you and your recent actions haven’t given her much reason to trust you. Practise building up that trust with your mother now and it’ll be a help to you in future relationships. You are young and nothing is forever. In a few years you’ll be old enough to live where you want, but for now your place is with your mother.” Both Cressida and Jaz appeared to have calmed down a bit and so Pilk drained the last of his drink and excused himself. He heard them begin talking again, much more quietly this time, as he plodded back up the stairs.
Prisoner or Guest?
O’tukka stepped out of his gate and into his bedroom. Wasting no time he hurried to the throne room in search of Supreme Mistress Sylestra. The guards at the door told him that she had not returned from Izlalek, having spent the night there. Knowing the guards would know little more than he did about the supreme mistress’s plans, he didn’t bother badgering them for any more information, instead telling them that he would remain in the library for a time if she returned soon.
On the way to the library, O’tukka decided to drop into the Necromancers’ Hall to see if he could extract any information from them. The hall was very quiet as O’tukka expected it to be, knowing that a lot of them would have accompanied the marching army. In fact it was only human necromancers and their necrolytes in there.
The immense hall had corridors shooting off in different directions leading to other parts of the ornately decorated hall. Magic was a large part of the Ta’zu culture and what gave them the edge over their enemies. This hall was the largest of its kind although not by much. Hundreds of necrolytes and even
prospective necrolytes would be trained here by the necromancers.
Students of dark magic took their tests with a view to being promoted to the next rank in halls such as this. The necromancers’ hall had its own sacrifice hall, where those practising the dark arts could restore their power. Those who were sacrificed were buried in shallow graves in the Palace graveyard where they could be reanimated at need.
Dark stone pillars resembling massive tree trunks stretched up high throughout the great hall, holding up the roof. Light filtered in through stained glass windows along the walls at the uppermost level. A single spiral staircase wound its way up in the middle of the hall allowing access to the seven tiers. O’tukka knew that access to each of those tiers relied on your rank in the hierarchy, with the uppermost level being reserved for the blood diamond necromancers. The necromancers attaining this level were very few and outranked only by Supreme Mistress Sylestra herself.
Not even a necrolyte, O’tukka was not permitted to ascend the staircase unless accompanied by one of higher rank and so he wandered around the lowest level in search of such a one. Most he came across were necrolytes or black necrolytes which was a second level apprentice. He spotted the occasional topaz necromancer, identified by the topaz ring on their finger and the topaz brooch pinned to their robes, but they were the lowest ranked and would likely know very little.
Finally he found a diamond necromancer as he was walking through the corridors, which was one rank below blood diamond. Even better, it was a necromancer that O’tukka knew well.
The tall thin human recognised O’tukka from a way off saying, “Are you lost O’tukka?”
O’tukka was so used to being called by his title of great shaman that it always came as a shock to him when he returned to the Palace and had no title. Although he was well-known to be on a special assignment for the supreme mistress, he was only given the deference of any other half-orc from those of authority.
The Gate - An Ancient Connection Page 18