“You'll die for this!” the captain growled between crooked yellow teeth as the two paused momentarily for breath. “Darril won't be able to protect you once Lord Renald finds out what you've done.”
“If he finds out,” Paul replied, twisting his enemy's blade to the side before stabbing him in the chest.
The undead commander tore away from the blade; dark red blood pouring from his wound. He glanced momentarily over the battlefield before kicking his mount into motion; flying away from the paladin.
“After him, you fool!” Darek cried. “He can't be allowed to escape!”
In response, Paul spurred his own horse after the captain; doing his best to look like he was slowly falling behind his fleeing enemy. After four or five minutes, the commander managed to put enough distance between the two that they lost sight of each other. Satisfied that his foe was certain he had gotten away rather than been allowed to escape, the young man made his way quickly back to the warehouse.
By the time he returned, the battle had been over for some time. Already, Myra had sent a magical message to Gregory, telling him to meet them at the granary as quickly as possible. Sarrac and Darek got to work hooking horses to wagons. The young man wasted no time and immediately began helping Joey load sacks of grain onto one of the readied vehicles.
If they wanted to make more than one trip (which they certainly did), they couldn't afford to waste a moment. According to the General's estimates, they would have almost two hours before any of the fleeing foes could report what had happened and return with reinforcements. If he was right, they should be able to get two shipments of grain packed into the vault and send the wagons into Lord Darril's territory with a little time to spare.
The young man thanked providence that the horses and carts they had hoped would be at the storehouse had been. No doubt, they would have been able to steal - or commandeer as he preferred to think of it - a great deal of food even without them, but having them would allow them to take enough food to last them a month or two; if not more.
He was amazed at just how much food the undead had managed to pack into the structure. Sacks of grain filled the ground floor, and the cellar below was stuffed with vaguely familiar vegetables that looked almost like cabbages, turnips, etc. He was sure they all likely had different names, but was equally certain that they all probably tasted familiar. As he threw a sack of not-exactly-potatoes onto one of the carts, he decided that he would show Sarrac how to make french fries at some point.
In less than twenty minutes, Gregory showed up with roughly a hundred other Warriors. Many hands made light work and, twenty minutes after this, ten carts loaded with food were headed toward the cell of the mad monk.
Unfortunately, they didn't have Nyssa to scout for them - which would have been an even greater benefit than normal under the current circumstances. So far, everything had gone off without a hitch. That wouldn't matter, however, if they were seen with the loaded wagons. It was possible that Lord Renald would simply believe that Lord Darril had sent the grain with a living escort after the attack, but that was too much to hope for.
If anything spotted them - anything undead at least - they would have to kill it. There wasn't a force anywhere in the area that could hope to defeat a hundred mounted Warriors, as well as the it and his companions. But, in this case, detection would be almost as bad as defeat. They had left the impression that the living had nothing to do with the attack on the storehouse. It was an impression they had to protect.
After a brief discussion, the decision was made to send a group of scouts to the cell in order to make sure that the road ahead was clear. Paul and his allies, on the other hand, fell back to act as a rear guard. At the moment, the possibility of running into Lord Darril's forces wasn't nearly as likely - or as possibly disastrous - as encountering any of Lord Renald's men. As long as the party members looked like undead, even if a scout happened to see them, it wouldn't necessarily give the game away.
For close to twenty-minutes more, the band rode onward; Joey constantly glancing over his shoulder.
“They're not going to catch us,” Paul asserted. “You heard what General Halfar told us; it'll take them two hours to get reinforcements here, even if they're all mounted. If it was me, I wouldn't rush out to some storehouse that had been attacked an hour before I ever got the message. I'd marshal my forces to go crush whoever it was that had robbed me.”
“You're right,” Joey ceded, turning his eyes back to the road ahead. “It's just that this has gone well. Too well... I just don't want us to trip at the finish line.”
“Don't be a pessimist,” Myra said with a smile.
“A pessimist?” he chuckled. “Did you seriously just use that word at me?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean; you are Little Miss Pessimist,” he replied.
“No, I'm not,” she deigned. “I'm just a realist.”
“That's what pessimists say when they don't want to be called pessimists.”
“In the main,” Sarrac observed aloud, “that's been my experience, as well. But, I don't believe it's true of Myra. I think she really is a realist.”
“So far,” the maiden continued, “this has all gone like it should have. It was well planned out, we had our enemies confused to start with, and they can't possibly anticipate what we're about to do.”
“Agreed,” Alena added with a smile. “And, gods willing, we'll have managed to start a feud between two undead lords.”
“Well, if we're not going to get caught,” Joey replied, “why don't we catch up to the others? After all, it’s going to take our enemies hours to reach us.”
“Actually, I agree,” Paul nodded. “The wagons have to have almost reached the cell by this time. Let's go help them unload.”
All the companions agreed with this assessment and gently kicked their mounts into slightly faster motion. A few minutes later, they overtook the wagons before making their way to the cell of the mad monk. Joey was the first to leap from the saddle and quickly stepped through the door of the small, one room structure, calling Nyssa's name. Less than a minute later, he emerged from the building with a look of sincere concern on his face.
“Well,” he exclaimed, “she's not there! I told you sending her all alone was a bad idea!”
Chapter 14: Much to Do
“Are you sure?” Paul asked with an almost confused look on his face.
“Oh, I don't know,” Joey replied sarcastically. “I mean; the cell has got to be at least ten by ten so I suppose I could have... Of course I'm sure, you idiot! The door to the vault is kind of hard to miss. Especially when it's supposed to be sitting in the wall of a tiny little building.”
“So, what do we do now?” Alena asked, her gaze turning to Sarrac as she spoke.
“We find out what happened to Nyssa,” Joey replied excitedly. “Then, we go rescue her!”
“Obviously,” the ogress replied. “But, before we do that, we have ten wagons filled with food to deal with.”
“We'll have to leave 'em,” Joey asserted. “Gregory and the General can handle it. They'll just have to go back to their head for the mountains plan.”
“Calm down, bro,” Paul said. “Getting excited isn't going to help Nyssa.”
“No, it won't,” his friend barked, “what would have helped her is not sending her in the first place! Which is why I was against it!”
“She could just be late,” Myra pointed out. “I think it's a little premature to start getting worried. She knows what she's doing and...”
“It's not a matter of knowing what you're doing,” Joey interrupted, “when some undead horror is eating your tiny little beautiful body!”
“What are we talking about?” Nyssa asked with a stretch as she emerged from the cell of the mad monk.
“You're late!” Joey snapped, spinning around to face the flying fairy and raising an accusing finger in the air.
“No, I'm not,” she said defensively. “You are. Or, maybe I
was early. But, either way, I've been waiting on you guys for... well, I actually don't know how long it was. I fell asleep after about an hour.”
“No,” Joey said, shaking his head, “I just checked and the vault wasn't in there.”
“Of course it was,” she laughed.
“No it wasn't,” he insisted. “I searched the entire place less than two minutes ago. It was empty.”
“I hid the door,” she explained. “It would hardly do to have some wandering undead peek through the window and see a vault full of food inside.”
“Show me,” he demanded.
In response, she rolled her eyes before fluttering back into the miniscule structure. She made her way to the far wall before passing right through it. Paul and his companions quickly followed suit; stepping through the illusionary wall to find themselves inside the vault.
“Very clever,” Paul said with a wide smile.
“Oh, yes!” Joey replied, lifting his hand to his chest. “Very clever! Of course, it was so clever it almost gave us all heart-attacks.”
“Not all of us,” Myra pointed out.
“Either way,” the paladin replied, “the point is that Nyssa did a fantastic job...”
“Thank you!” she interjected with a curtsy.
“And that she's perfectly safe,” he continued. “That being the case, we need to start getting the food in here ASAP.”
All the members of the band took this truth to be so self-evident that they didn't bother to discuss it. They simply made their way outside to await the arrival of the wagons. Fortunately, they weren't kept waiting long.
The moment the first of these arrived, a number of Warriors formed what was essentially a fire brigade bucket line to unload their stolen provisions and get them stored within the vault. This method proved extremely efficient and allowed them to empty all ten wagons in less than half-an-hour. As a result, they decided it would almost certainly be worth the risk of making a second trip.
Nyssa was sent to scout the area between the mad monk's cell and the storehouse while the rest of the band followed behind as quickly as they could. The road was deserted and the wagons moved with much greater speed having been relieved of their burden of supplies. As soon as the group reached the warehouse, they once again loaded the carts as quickly as possible before heading back toward the hidden vault.
“Myra,” Paul said thoughtfully as they rode along at the back of the column, “didn't you say once that, if we got hold of a capture stone, we might be able to use it to teleport into the fortress it was crafted for?”
“I don't remember saying it,” she replied, turning her gaze to him, “but, I might have. Since it is, at least theoretically, possible.”
“Right...” he said slowly, nodding his head as he spoke. “Because we've got some capture stones now.”
“Yes, we do,” she agreed.
“So,” he continued, “if you could find a way to get around whatever magic it is that blocks teleportation into whatever place these capture stones are connected to we might be able to move the vault to wherever it is.”
“We might,” she agreed. “It's certainly worth Nyssa and I taking a look into it.”
“If we could move the vault directly into an undead stronghold,” Darek said with a wide smile, “we could storm wherever it is with a couple hundred Warriors.”
“My thoughts exactly,” the paladin replied.
“But, we'd need to hold it for at least five days,” Sarrac pointed out. “Either that or leave the vault behind like we did in Kafmara.”
“I don't like the idea of leaving it,” Alena replied. “At least, not in the heart of some undead fortress.”
“I agree,” Paul nodded, “but, what if we could hold the place for five days? That would give us plenty of time to loot everything in it. Not to mention that, if it happened to contain a dark shard, we'd have days to find and shatter it.”
“More than likely, there is a dark shard wherever it is,” Myra asserted. “Most of the strongholds tied to capture stones also house a dark shard.”
“Perfect,” the paladin smiled.
“Still,” Sarrac mused, “I'm not sure that we could hold it for that long. It would certainly be risky. So far, our strategy has been very dependent on strike and fade tactics. In my mind, it rather depends on which fortress we've got capture stones for. The more remote, the better. The longer it takes for Grathis to marshal his forces and march out for a siege, the longer it would be before we were actually fighting to defend it.”
“This has really got me thinking,” Darek added. “What if we could hold it indefinitely?”
“That's impossible,” Alena said. “It would only be a matter of time before Grathis overwhelmed us.”
“Maybe,” Darek replied, “but, he doesn't know we have the vault. Every ten days or so, we could go hit another storehouse, or slaughter some other garrison, or go gather up more recruits. Whatever we did, we'd be able to keep his attention off the fortress. He might not be willing to risk getting his troops slaughtered en masse while we were hitting him all over his territory. Especially since he'll have no idea how we're doing it.”
“That's brilliant!” Paul agreed. “It would give us a place of refuge; a base that we could work from.”
“It might,” Alena replied. “Until the undead lords united to kill us all.”
“We may be able to keep them from doing that,” Joey speculated. “All we need to do is keep flying more and more false flags. We won't strike as Warriors of Dawn. We'll attack as servants of Lord So And So who's out to overthrow Lord Such And Such.”
“That...” Alena replied before pausing. “That might actually work...”
“It might,” Myra agreed, “and the truth is that we have to try something. We can't just keep striking and fading, as it were. There are already too many of us to make that realistic in the long run. But, if we can get the undead fighting amongst themselves, they might be willing to leave us alone in some overthrown fortress for the time being. Especially if we seem like we're satisfied with stopping with that victory for a while and don't have any way to get any more food.”
“How do we plan to keep getting provisions?” Sarrac asked. “If we keep attacking their storehouses, it will only be a matter of time before the undead lords increase the size of the garrisons protecting them.”
“What if Nyssa scries on them?” Joey suggested. “I don't think any undead were actually guarding the cellar of that warehouse. We could just move the vault into one, hide the door, and then empty the place out right before we could move again. They'd have no idea who was doing it or how. We could probably steal enough food to last for centuries.”
“That is a thought,” Sarrac nodded. “And, I have to admit that Myra has a point. We're going to have to try something a little bolder eventually, one way or the other. But, this plan comes with a lot of risks - if we can even do it.”
“Any plan we come up with will be risky,” Paul asserted. “Even if we just planned to keep doing what we're doing.”
“That's certainly true,” the ogre agreed. “I just don't like the fact that we could end up trapped.”
“We'll have to do our best to minimize that chance,” the paladin replied. “After we take whatever stronghold it is, we'll hold it for five days and see what things look like. If we're under siege, we'll climb into the vault and disappear. If Grathis hasn't headed our way by then, we can come up with another plan.”
“That does sound reasonable,” Sarrac admitted. “Especially if it's an easy to defend fortress.”
“The only thing about that is teleportation magic,” Joey replied. “I mean; if we can just beam in, then the undead will be able to do the same thing.”
“No, they won't,” Myra corrected. “They don't have anything like the vault and Nyssa and I should be able to do something to protect the place. Not to mention the fact that, if we actually manage to hold it, Paul can sanctify the ground if he’s given enough time.”
“Yes I can,” the paladin agreed. “That will keep any incorporeal undead out of the place and even make it difficult for those with bodies to storm it. Plus, if I can get enough powdered silver, I should be able to make it permanent.”
“Semi-permanent,” Myra replied. “It will remain sanctified unless the undead manage to drive us out and desecrate it again. Either way though, your point is valid and I think we'll be able to come up with the powered silver you'll need.”
“That's a common commodity, is it?” Joey asked with a chuckle.
“No,” the former lich replied, “but, silver coins are. All we need to do is powder them.”
“I got ya.”
“Is this a plan, then?” Darek asked.
“A tentative plan,” Sarrac replied. “I think we need to find out what stronghold the stones are connected to and discuss it with Gregory and the General before we come to a firm decision, though.”
“Plus, we need to make sure that Nyssa and I can figure out how to do it,” Myra pointed out.
“At the moment,” Joey said, “I think Paul and I should head back to the storehouse.”
“Why?” the paladin asked.
“To grab some uniforms,” he replied. “If we plan to be flying false flags all the time, then we're going to need uniforms from as many undead lords as we can get. Right now, there are a pile of Lord Renald's just lying there.”
“You're right,” Paul agreed. “We'll go strip a few of the dead and meet you guys back at the cell.”
“We should all go,” Alena replied. “For one thing, we should steal the bodies we plan to strip. It might look a little conspicuous if Lord Renald's men found some of their fellow soldiers robbed of their uniforms.”
“That's a good point,” Darek agreed.
“So, now, I'm gonna be a body snatcher,” Joey said shaking his head. “That's so far out there it never even made my things I'll never do list.”
The Fortress of Donmar (The Tales of Zanoth Book 2) Page 24