Necromancer: Book Ten Of The Spellmonger Series

by Terry Mancour

  “The bulk of Sheruel’s forces have been growing and training in their camps and cantonments,” she reported. “His mines and mills have been toiling day and night to craft swords, armor, and implements of war. His allies, Alkan and human, have been seen assisting him in drilling his troops.”

  “Yet that is merely discipline,” Count Angrial proposed, hopefully.

  “I wish that were the case, my lord. But it appears to be preparation for war. In ranging with the Kasari, news came of the first of his minions from the deep mountains arriving as soon as the passes were cleared: long lines of siege worms, hundreds of trolls, and new legions of hobgoblins, arrayed for war. The Umbra’s skies are filled with those insidious wyverns,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “Everywhere, the signs point toward a renewed offensive.”

  “That’s . . . troubling,” agreed Angrial. “And unfortunate.”

  “I will begin drilling our own troops at once,” nodded Salgo, looking disturbed.

  “If that is the case, then perhaps now is the time for a preemptive strike,” Pentandra counselled. “One of sufficient strength and surprise could forestall their plans.”

  “As their plans seem to involve raising some of the more disturbing enneagrams from the Ghost Rock and incarnating them, that could be key,” I agreed.

  “What?” Aeratas asked, startled. “Why would—?”

  “You know better than I, there are shades within the Ghost Rock beyond those of your ancestors, Lord Aeratas,” I pointed out. “My fear is that Korbal and his minions will raise these beasts against us. Ancient spirits with powers we cannot imagine, in whatever bodies he chooses to put them. The potential for chaos goes beyond mere war.”

  “Yet war is what we are faced with,” Duke Anguin said, rubbing his chin. He had wisely not yet tried to grow a beard. “We all know that it is inevitable. It would be too much to ask the gods for Sheruel to wait until we are ready to receive him. With all respects, Prime Minister, we’ve known about these beehives for years, now. The bees are not going to move along peacefully.”

  “Then you are willing to risk the potential for provocation, Your Grace?” Pentandra asked, respectfully. The young duke nodded, glancing around the room.

  “Duin’s axe, if they are ready to strike at us before we are ready, then it seems only just to return the favor,” he snorted. “If we can disrupt their plans for a neat and orderly invasion, then I see it as well-worth the risk.”

  Count Angrial looked resigned, but sighed and nodded. I could appreciate his reluctance. He’d just started getting his realm into order, and now he was faced with its potential ruin.

  “The consequences of this course of action are unknown,” Pentandra agreed, “but Alshar has been preparing for this. We have but a third of the castles we once held, but Count Salgo has seen to their repair and resupply.”

  “We can garrison what we have,” the count agreed. “For the last year we have been organizing militia training, infantry training, and cavalry training. I’ve re-organized local defenses to be more responsive to raids, and coordinated defensive maneuvers – thanks to the help of the magi,” he added, gratefully. “With the addition of the 3rd Commando, we can survive a great deal of punishment.”

  “There are other potential consequences,” Lady Ithalia pointed out. “Korbal is also raising an army, an army not just of goblins, but of undead. Should he launch an offensive, it could be disastrous for the human populations.”

  “But not the Alka Alon?” Count Angrial asked, curious.

  “Most of our folk have fled to our strongholds,” Lord Aeratas reported. “The fair refuges and settlements in the Wilderlands are empty, now. It would take much for our foes to strike us there.”

  “Yet they have before,” Onranion pointed out. “Anthatiel has fallen into dark hands. Anas Yartharel was attacked by dragonfire. And they were the strongest of our remaining fortresses. Do you expect Carneduin to fare better against the worms? Or Nandaroriel?” he scoffed. “In just a few years the enemy has dealt us a devastating blow. We can barely defend ourselves. We have scorned violence for so long, we have forgotten how to fight.”

  “Speak for yourself!” Ithalia snorted. “I’ve ranged from Castabriel to the lands of the Kasari, and slain hundreds of gurvani,” she said, proudly. “And that’s with primitive weapons. Let us relearn the ways of war, and teach ourselves the valor of our ancestors!”

  “Well spoken!” Aeratas nodded. “While this grim day is but a shadow of our past struggles, so too are we but shadows of our past glories. Yet it is an opportunity for us to demonstrate that we have the spirit of our ancestors, if not their craft.” He looked pointedly at me. “Having been convinced to adopt these . . . stronger forms for war, let us see their value in harassing the foe. Weapons we can find or forge. Our commitment, that is what is important, now.”

  “This is a raid,” I emphasized, “not an attempt to conquer. Even with magic, we do not yet have the resources to make that attempt with hope of success. From what the Estasi Order reports,” I said, nodding to Tyndal and Rondal, “Anthatiel has been transformed.

  “Out of the ruin Korbal has constructed an entire compound of fortresses, workshops, prisons and laboratories. He’s guarded by goblins, trolls, draugen and dragons. Now wyverns have infested the place. It will take an army to dislodge him, and even if we could repeat the feat of freezing the Poros and marching one there, the struggle would be mighty.”

  “Raids tend to have a purpose,” Count Salgo observed. “Unless you just get your jollies risking your life and spitting in Korbal’s soup. What is the purpose of this raid, Minalan?” the old soldier asked. It was a question, not a criticism.

  “The purpose is twofold,” I said, thoughtfully. “Two main purposes, anyway, with a number of smaller ones we can take advantage of. The first is the rescue of Princess Rardine and any other prisoners of high importance. Olum Seheri has been collecting people in a far more deliberate fashion than Sheruel.”

  “Their strategy is to infiltrate, not merely invade,” Rondal spoke, for the first time. “From what we saw on the island and what we’ve learned from the prisoners we rescued, Korbal intends on subverting society from within. That’s why he is using his undead so liberally, because he wishes to use our own weaknesses against us. He already has a substantial operation in southeastern Enultramar. We barely escaped with our lives from a trap he set for Talented human magi. Apparently, we make the best draugen and Nemovort hosts.”

  “That doesn’t mean he isn’t geared for war,” Tyndal added. “He has at least two legions of gurvani regulars, another of hobgoblins, about a hundred trolls. And he’s adding draugen to his armies every hour, I expect. Rardine was being held in one of the old ruined towers of Anthatiel that Korbal’s slaves are rebuilding. Getting past all of that to get her is going to be challenging.”

  “Which is why your team will be responsible for that,” I chuckled. “I know how much you enjoy a challenge. The other team, the one I will lead, will use the distraction of Rardine’s escape to penetrate the caverns under the city. My goal is to get to the Ghost Rock vein and secure the enneagram of a long-dead creature known as the Handmaiden.”

  “Why are you doing that, Baron?” asked Count Angrial, curiously.

  “Because it’s the best chance I have to heal my wife,” I barked. “And it’s my primary motivation for conducting this raid in the first place. Once we secure the Handmaiden, our last goal is to keep Korbal from using the Ghost Rock himself.”

  “How do you plan on doing that?” Pentandra asked.

  “I’m still working on that,” I admitted. “That’s why we’re having this planning meeting. But denying Korbal use of the Ghost Rock would be a victory, perhaps a decisive one. It was certainly his primary motivation for taking Anthatiel,” I pointed out.

  “I have some ideas about that,” Aeratas nodded. “I am the one most familiar with those chambers.”

  “I expected you might. We’ll meet separately about that
. But those are our main goals: Rardine, the Handmaiden, and Ghost Rock.

  “Beyond that . . . our goal is to mess up anything that Korbal has invested in. If he and Sheruel are preparing for another offensive, then he’ll be using Olum Seheri as a staging ground. While we’re there, damaging their plans buys us time to prepare.”

  “What about Sheruel?” Duke Anguin asked, concerned. “I see the danger in Korbal, but he’s on the other side of the Land of Scars. Sheruel has forces on my doorstep with legions. And dragons,” he added.

  “It’s a risk,” I admitted. “But one that could be mitigated.” A thought occurred to me. “Your Grace, if the gurvani are preparing an offensive, then their human slaves will not only be important, but once it begins their fates are all but assured. Perhaps if we used the raid as an opportunity to distract Sheruel and keep his attention elsewhere, the chance of success would increase. Say, a sudden, concerted attack with the express goal of rescuing as many human slaves as we can. The raid of liberation Pentandra mentioned you were considering.”

  “Would that not violate the treaty?” Onranion asked. He took more interest in human politics than most of his fellows.

  “So did destroying my palace with dragonfire,” Anguin replied, his nostrils flaring. “That treaty was a fiction from the moment of its inception, an attempt by my cousin to look regal. I will not allow it to stand in the way of rescuing my subjects from slavery, torture, and death.”

  “With the Third Commando augmenting our defenses around Vorone,” Salgo reasoned, “we would have enough men to strike at three or four of their largest camps. We could rescue thousands,” he nodded, the idea appealing to the man.

  “Let us think larger than that,” Ithalia counseled. “We have several allies in the region that could coordinate attacks. Nor would they have to be attacks in force – indeed, if done with guile and vigilance, small groups could affect a large liberation. The gurvani depend on the terror of the slaves to keep them in line. The horrific consequences for captured escapees is well-known, as is the disdain for which they are held by the gurvani. As a result, the slave camps are comparatively lightly guarded. Drawing off what troops are there with distractions and well-planned ruses would give us the opportunity to liberate thousands more.”

  “The Iron Band will help,” I figured. “And we have bases all along the edge of the Penumbra. We’ll have to prepare for that many freed slaves arriving all at once, and take pains to ensure their security, but if Sheruel is busy contending with that, he’s unlikely to be able to send much aid to Korbal. Indeed, such a strike might draw strength from Olum Seheri, if played right.”

  “I think we can help with that,” Rondal volunteered. “At least, in providing a force for doing it. At the behest of our esteemed former master, Tyndal and I have been scouring the kingdom for volunteers, ostensibly a recruitment drive by the Estasi Order for more errants.

  “But we’re using this as cover to train men for this mission,” he continued. “With His Grace’s kind permission to use Timberwatch, which is now under Ducal control, as our camp, we plan on drilling the recruits this spring. As well as a goodly number of mundane warriors,” he added, “to help strengthen the defense of the Wilderlands and teach them to fight in concert with warmagi.”

  “We’re recruiting far more men than we’ll need,” Tyndal continued, smoothly. “Our hope is to select the absolute best for Olum Seheri, but leave behind enough of the second-best to work with the Duchy. I think a coordinated strike to liberate slaves sounds like an ideal final examination,” he pointed out. “We can seed them clandestinely across the Penumbra, and have them strike as needed, according to plan. That many warmagi working together with infantry troops could get a lot of people out of those camps.”

  “Could we count on the Kasari for support, Lady Pentandra?” asked Carmella.

  “The gurvani haven’t typically discriminated about the slaves they’ve taken,” Pentandra nodded. “Though they are harder to capture than normal Wilderlands freeholders, the Kasari have lost hundreds to the slavers. The good news is that they are harder to cow than Wilderlands peasants, and they have a tendency to escape with far more regularity. Much of our intelligence on conditions in the camps comes from Kasari escapees.”

  “Then the first phase of our raid should be the liberation of the Wilderlands slaves,” I announced. “The second will be the rescue of Princess Rardine. And the third will be the Ghost Rock.”

  “And the fourth,” Prime Minister Angrial said, chuckling mirthlessly, “will be to rebuild in the aftermath. Again,” he emphasized. “Your Grace, while I agree Baron Minalan makes some compelling arguments, I would be remiss if I did not point out the potential for disaster, here.”

  “Your concerns are noted, Angrial,” Anguin said, soberly. “But I feel that the potential gains, weighed against those risks, are rich enough to warrant a try. Therefore, I grant permission for this expedition . . . on one condition.”

  “And that is, Your Grace?” I asked.

  “I’m going,” he stated, flatly. “I will be included in the rescue party.”

  That produced an explosion of murmuring from around the room. Anguin didn’t allow the initiative of his statement to slip away, but compounded it. “This threat is to my realm. It is my cousin who is held hostage, in my own lands. It is my duty to see to her rescue and to see for myself the festering sore that overlooks the only route connecting the Wilderlands to Enultramar.”

  “Your Grace! I beg you to reconsider!” Count Angrial said, alarmed.

  “My Duke, you have many brave and resolute—” Count Salgo began, almost as alarmed.

  “Enough!” Anguin said, as Pentandra began to add her own concerns. To his credit, his advisors ceased speaking at once. He might still be a teenager, but Anguin had mastered at least part of the art of command.

  “I understand the dangers. They do not need to be listed. I understand the consequences if I fall on the quest, or – even worse – am captured myself. I even understand the risks to my life and the duchy. And even the success of the mission, by including me.

  “But I have weighed all of those factors, and it is my decision that I will, indeed, undertake this quest. I need not command it, but I will participate, particularly in the rescue of my cousin.”

  “The baronies,” Pentandra said, coming to a realization. “You want the two Gilmoran baronies!”

  Also to his credit, Anguin did not demure. “Indeed. If I, not another man, lays claim to that reward, then I will have control of three baronies in rich Gilmora. That is not an insignificant revenue. One of which my realm is in dire need.”

  “You really think that Rard is going to give an Alshari duke two baronies in Gilmora?” Carmella asked. “That would be enough for a third of the nobles to rebel in favor of a restoration!”

  “We are a kingdom, now,” Anguin said, sagely, “not merely feuding duchies. While it will, alas, technically make me a vassal of my cousin Tavard, that’s inevitable at this point, anyway. But laying claim fairly to them by returning Rardine home would force Rard to grant them to me, before Tavard someday ascends the throne.”

  “It’s a shrewd move,” chuckled Onranion. “Assuming you can trust Rard to keep his word.”

  “If he didn’t, the Alka Alon counsel would rethink their alliance with him,” Aeratas suggested.

  “If he didn’t, he’d have rebellion from his other vassals,” Pentandra snorted. “You don’t go around making grand promises and then breaking them, if you’re a king. The Lawfathers don’t like that sort of thing.”

  “He could not afford alienating me, in any case,” Anguin shrugged. “He needs me. Especially if one of the Five Counts of the rebellion tries proclaiming himself Duke, which they will likely do soon. Especially in the face of a farce of an invasion from Castal,” he added, ruefully.

  “It does make you important, but not indispensable,” Angrial pointed out. “And while your ambitions are a credit to your house, I beg Your Grace to r
econsider!”

  “If I am to claim the reward, it will be because it was my hands that broke her fetters,” Anguin insisted. “Honor demands it. I can fight,” he assured me. “I’ve been studying the art further with my . . . new bodyguard,” he said, tactfully. There was a story there, I knew – I’d have to get Pentandra to fill me in. “I am not a great warrior, but I can defend myself. I can even attack. And I can follow orders. But it must be me who rescues Rardine, or there is no raid.”

  “I defer to the wishes of Your Grace,” I nodded. I had a hundred other reasons prepared to argue against it, but I could tell when Anguin was committed. If he wanted to risk his life – and potentially his duchy – on this mad quest, then I would not disagree. Damn it, I needed this to happen. And I needed him to make it happen smoothly.

  “Then it is settled,” he nodded, satisfied. “I will be among the rescue party. While my men are busy rescuing my subjects. And Master Minalan will be doing . . .”

  “Wizard stuff,” I supplied. It was just easier than explaining precisely what I was doing and why. “Important wizard stuff.”

  “Then I defer to the wisdom of the Spellmonger,” Anguin nodded. “Who shall lead us, then?”

  “I would like to make Tyndal and Rondal in charge of both preparation and planning of the rescue of Rardine,” I suggested. “I will lead the foray into the undercaverns. And . . . Lady Pentandra? I know you are headed for bedrest,” I said, nodding to her increasingly growing belly, “but much of this can be done with magic. Would you coordinate the rescue of the slaves? Since it will be in your garden, so to speak, you seem best prepared to coordinate intelligence, magic, and troops as needed.”

  “In all of my free time?” she complained. “You do realize that I’m a busy Court Wizard?”

  “With a full staff,” I pointed out. “And you do know how to delegate,” I reminded her.

  “Yes, of course I’ll coordinate,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Particularly on the intelligence of the matter. We’re going to have to scout the area thoroughly before we move. The Kasari have had ranger outposts in the Land of Scars for years. Though they’ve evacuated them, they know the territory. I think I might be able to persuade them to act on our behalf.”