by Guy Antibes
“For what I am about to do tonight, you can’t even think about poseless magic, or you’ll find yourself falling or hanging sideways a hundred paces from the ground.”
She nodded. “Return to this balcony and wake me up if I am asleep. I don’t know how I can doze thinking about you.”
They kissed, and Trak lifted off and kept visualizing floating to different spots. This was more like he had done when Jojo and he had started figuring out how to transport. Even with his thick clothing, the air seemed to cut right through everything as he moved. He created a shield to block out the wind, and then didn’t feel the cold quite so much.
The river ran over falls a few leagues east of Zamiel, and then the gorge went on for ten leagues before the land gradually dropped, making the banks even with the rushing water once again. Looking at the gorge from high in the air, Trak could see that the ancient Toryans craftily used the river valley to protect part of the city.
While he followed the water, he made out the tiny lights of many campfires far to the north. Tembul’s information wasn’t as accurate as Trak had hoped. Trak began to teleport in the air, a few leagues at a time until he looked down at an army.
He drifted down and floated just high enough to avoid detection, but low enough to verify that a Kandannan army sat in Toryan territory. Trak spent enough time counting fires and units to estimate that no less than three thousand Kandannans were heading to Zamiel, or perhaps waiting for something to happen in the city before attacking.
Zamiel’s walls seemed up to the task of defending against the relatively small force, but the Kandannans still represented a threat to King Gastal and to Lia.
He headed further west and then flew south, his eyes scanning from horizon to horizon. He saw a glow to the west and stopped when he floated over a sizable town. He couldn’t find any evidence of soldiers in the streets and continued flying back and forth looking for another army.
Trak found another glow and looked down on an army a bit larger than the first. Trak saw a line of merchants heading back and forth from a road leading to Zamiel. He descended into a small gap in the woods and began walking casually towards the camp from the east. A merchant seemed to be struggling to keep his goods from falling off his floater.
“Can I help?” Trak said.
“You certainly can. You’ve got something to sell?” The man looked Trak over.
“No. I’m picking up a broken floater.”
The man nodded. “It happens. You won’t make any money doing that.”
“It’s not my money. I’m being paid to hike all the way to the camp.” Trak grinned as earnestly as he could.
“It’s a day from Zamiel and a day back,” the merchant said. “I won’t pay you with anything other than appreciation.”
Trak nodded. “That’s good enough. Now I’ve got someone to talk to.”
“Get on the other side, and let’s tie this thing up properly.”
They spent a few minutes trying to tie the goods together and weren’t successful until Trak used sips of magic to tighten the ropes.
The merchant shook his head. “I thought I would have to spend all night picking up my goods.”
“These are bundles of clothes?”
“Uniforms. They look just like ones worn by the palace guard.” He chuckled in the dark. “Old King Gastal’s men will be surprised.”
Trak had to laugh along with him. “Devious and effective,” he said. The merchant had told Trak what he needed to know. The army was full of Separatists, and now all Trak had to do was find out if the Kandannans were their allies. Magic wasn’t very effective if the magicians couldn’t tell friend from foe, and with disguised infiltrators prior to the armies showing up, there wouldn’t be a siege, but insiders making a victory happen.
Trak wanted the man to talk about the army, but he had a sick wife at home and had decided to let Trak in on every detail of her sickness. They finally reached the camp. A sentry eyed every merchant entering the camp. Trak was ready to teleport, but if he could just listen as he walked with the merchant in the camp, he might learn even more. He put his hand on the goods of the floater as the sentry waved them both on.
The merchant turned to the left. Trak followed him past a few rows of tents and attempted to change the colors of the uniforms to black from the green the guards used. He might never know if his spell worked, but it was worth a try.
“I’ll leave you here,” Trak said. “I hope your wife gets better soon.”
“Better means a return to her nagging. Good luck to you.” He waved as Trak slipped out off the wide path between tents and merged with the shadows.
Trak kept between tents and paused to listen to conversations until he reached the officer’s area. The tents were spaced farther apart, and the fires were larger. After an hour watching and listening, he spotted Sirul, standing in a uniform similar to the other officers, talking to a superior. Trak increased his hearing.
“…won’t be back until late tomorrow. At least we will finally have some birds to use to coordinate with the Kandannans,” the officer said.
“I can always build a flyer,” Sirul said.
The officer twisted his lips in an unattractive way. “I don’t trust those things, and neither does the General.” The officer looked back towards the largest tent. “You admitted that birds were faster. That’s good enough for the Toryan army, so please don’t ask again.”
Sirul looked dejected, but they traded salutes, and he walked away.
All Trak needed to know was the timing, but if his spell on the uniforms worked, the timing would be pushed back. He needed to move again and rose into the air and began to head north. He passed over a few small cities and many villages as he moved more quickly around Zamiel.
He spotted a line of torches far away to the southeast and decided that he would investigate. He could feel his power begin to decline, so he began to teleport rather than fly and finally found himself above a line of troops. They wore the uniforms of Eastern Torya. He teleported to the end of the line more than a league away, and then discovered that a unit of Colcanan troops trailed behind.
He floated lower to verify the uniforms and nearly ran into a flyer.
“Did you see that bird?” one of the magicians on the flyer said. The Colcanan’s hadn’t balked at using Ben’s innovation.
Trak looked along the column and used his magician sight to see four flyers moving above the Colcanan troops, but none floated over the Toryans. He estimated the combined army to be somewhat larger than the other two. If the Toryans made it over both the Lizanti and the Dianzan Passes, that meant collusion on the part of the Western Toryans to let them through.
The information gave Trak a sinking feeling. He didn’t see how the Monarchists would survive three attacking armies numbering at least ten thousand soldiers. Who knew how many Zamiel inhabitants would fight for one or all of the converging armies? He didn’t know the answer to that and teleported directly into Lia’s quarters.
She had fallen asleep on the large sofa. He gently nudged her awake. Lia sat up alarmed and began to open her mouth in complaint, but Trak put his hand over her mouth to cut off the sound.
She looked up at him and removed his hand. “Why Trak, you caught me thinking with my eyes closed.” She smiled and kept his hand in hers. “What did you learn? By the look on your face, nothing good.”
“Worse than that,” Trak said. “There are four armies heading this way. Separatists, Kandannan, Eastern Toryans, and there are Colcanans marching with the East.”
“Is it hopeless?”
Trak looked at the blackness outside. “In my opinion, yes. We will talk to Tembul in the morning. The Separatists are more than a day away, camping as an army. The Kandannans and Western Toryans might be three or four days away, but only the Eastern Toryans seem to be mobilizing, but they are the farthest away.”
“What should we do?”
Trak looked into her eyes. “What do you want to do? We can leave now
if you wish.”
Lia pulled away from him. “Are you that much of a coward?”
“Do you think I am? Have you seen me run away from a fight in progress?”
“No, but we have retreated before, in Kizru, and in Coriasku.”
Trak pressed his lips together to keep from losing his temper. “I don’t like killing people, but that doesn’t mean I won’t fight when I have to. I didn’t have to fight in those places. We were going to Zamiel, if you recall.”
Princess Pullia came out. “You didn’t get my permission. You dragged me with you.”
Trak sighed. “Then you want to stay?”
She jerked her head up and down. “Yes. I want to sit on the throne. That’s what my father would want.”
Trak looked hard at her. “He didn’t. He sold you to Bennin, but we can stay until you wish to leave, just like I said.”
“I want to stay,” she said defiantly.
~
Trak tried to sleep in his small room in the Princess’s quarters. He put his arms behind his head and looked up at the ceiling, lit by a tiny spelled light above Trak’s nightstand. It was time to talk to King Gastal and tell him what he faced.
Early in the morning, Trak left Lia’s rooms and sought out the king.
“He is breakfasting with his wife,” the guard said standing in front of King Gastal’s quarters.
“Inside?”
The guard nodded.
Trak teleported just on the other side of the door and stalked off to find the king. He followed his nose to a dining room.
“How dare you, foreigner? I’ll have you put away for intruding.”
The king and his wife wore plain clothes, but were definitely up for the day.
“I have very grave news.” Trak said. “Zamiel is about to be invaded.”
King Gastal barked out a laugh. “As if I didn’t know.”
“The Separatists intend to infiltrate your guard wearing the same uniforms. They are in contact with a Kandannan army of about three thousand men by bird. The Kandannan army is across the river about fifteen leagues away. Another larger army consisting mostly of Eastern Toryans, that includes a force of Colcanans, coming from the southeast. They have infiltrated over the Lizanti and Dianzan Passes. Your troops stationed on both summits had to have let them in. The Colcanans have flyers. I put flyers to good use in the Santasian civil war. You probably can’t defend your city against them. Is this information that you knew?”
“How did you—?”
“I have many tricks, remember?” He spelled a flame in front of his face and moved it in front of the Queen and then in front of Gastal. “The Vashtans and the Colcanans can do similar things using poses. Do you think you can withstand their forces?”
Gastal had turned white. “Are you telling me the truth?”
Trak nodded. “I’ll submit to a truth spell, if it would make you believe me.”
“I believe you. We have suspected the Kandannans allying with the Separatists, but Eastern Torya and Colcanans in my lands?” The king gave his wife a frightened look. “It is time to leave.”
“You are leaving the city at a time like this?” Trak said. He couldn’t believe the king to be such a coward, but then he had suggested much the same thing to Lia the previous night and now understood her objection.
“Better that than be hanged or burned alive, don’t you think? Leave us. We have to prepare to flee. Don’t you tell anyone.”
Trak nodded and teleported back to Lia’s rooms and called to her.
She walked in and sat down while a maid toweled her hair dry. “Where were you?”
“I had a breakfast conference with King Gastal. Do you want to sit on the throne with enemies all around you?”
Lia narrowed her eyes. “If only for a day, a week, or a month. It’s my destiny.”
Trak wondered what his destiny was, but merely relayed the words that he exchanged with the king.
“He is abdicating?”
“I suppose so. I think we need to do a little planning,” Trak said, lifting the corner of a covered tray. “May I? I haven’t had anything to eat since last night.”
“If you must,” Lia said. It seemed that Princess Pullia had emerged again.
Trak sighed, not knowing what to make of Lia’s changes, and it worried him. “I’ll speak with Tembul. If you gain the throne, we will have to negotiate peace with all of the parties. We will gain time, if nothing else. I may be powerful, but I can’t defeat four armies, three of which are filled with magicians.”
“You’ve done it before.”
Trak shook his head. “I didn’t. I managed to make my own battles small and manageable. The coups at Beniko and Balbaam didn’t have more than one hundred participants each. I only fought with Riotro at the end in Santasia, and when I turned the Kandannan army aside, I executed all of the officers, something I still can’t accept as a noble act.”
“Coward,” Lia said with Princess Pullia’s voice.
“Are those the acts of a coward? You were in that room with the Emperor when I defeated the Vashtans and Shinowa in Beniko. Did I look like a coward?”
Lia’s eyes filled with tears. She rose and ran into his arms. “I am so afraid.” She buried her face into his chest. “You’re no coward, but I am even more of one. I desperately want to sit on the throne. I promised myself in Beniko that if I ever returned, I would. I just tried to hide behind my persona, but I can’t keep it up.”
“You still must, if the king is as afraid as I think he is. You have to support what I suggest we do, or come up with something else. Without a plan, they will crush us, and a lot of innocent people in Zamiel will die.”
Lia sniffed. “My people.” She looked up at Trak. “Forgive me. I have to take the throne.”
“Then we will make it so you will. Finish getting ready to face a hectic day.”
~
Just after the midday meal, two courtiers and Tembul barged into Princess Pullia’s rooms.
“The king has just abdicated his throne and has fled from the city. There is a fight in the throne room. You must come immediately,” Tembul said.
Trak rushed to his room and buckled on his sword. He would use magic, but the sword was what people would notice. He grabbed Lia’s hand. “Stay close, so I can keep you shielded.”
“I am with you.” Lia took a deep breath and followed Trak out of her quarters.
The courtiers had brought ten guards with them. “These aren’t monarchists,” Tembul said, “but concerned citizens of the city, and they want a peaceful transition to whatever Zamiel ends up with, a monarchy or whatever. I convinced them to come and watch you deal with the madness in the throne room.”
~~~
Chapter Twenty-Five
~
“We can’t go to Warish yet,” Valanna said to Asem. “Pestle must be secured first. The last thing you would want is an army at your front and at your back.”
“But can we join with Warish,” Asem said.
Valanna shook her head. “King Marom won’t allow Pestle into his country until Colcanans have used their magic to beat down the walls of Balbaam.”
“Is he that stubborn?” Danson said.
Asem glared at Valanna. “Whom do we owe allegiance to?”
Valanna took a deep breath. “Pestle.”
Kulara went to Valanna’s side. “Pestle,” she said folding her arms. “Pestle, the continent.”
After throwing up his arms in dismay, Asem nodded. “Very well. I won’t take up arms against my cousin.”
“I never asked you to,” Valanna said.
Asem let one corner of his mouth turn up. “You didn’t. You’re talent goading me is nearly as effective as my First Wife’s.” He put an arm around Kulara’s shoulder. “Let’s make the liberation of Pestle go quickly then.”
Neel leaned back in his chair with arms folded. “We will.” Neel looked on as Danson entered the room, long rolls of documents under his arms.
Danson un
rolled one of them. “Here is the plan of Pestledown. We have twelve hundred men in place inside the city. That is enough to take care of the city guard and open the gates to our men—”
A bell clanged outside. “Vashtans have arrived. Go to your stations,” Neel said, jumping up and running out of the room.
Valanna followed him into the jail. The Vashtan was just assuming a teleport pose when Neel blew the man over with a wind spell, while Valanna took care of him. Two soldiers lay inside the cells, smoking holes in their uniforms.
Another Vashtan appeared. Valanna and Neel both were posed with lightning and took care of the Vashtan before their enemy could go anywhere.
Danson ran in. “I can’t remove the bodies.”
“I can,” Ferikan said, standing at the door. He leaned into the teleport pose and appeared in the cell. He stacked the two bodies and leaned over and disappeared from the jail.
“That’s two less Vashtans,” Neel said. “I suppose we shouldn’t push our luck.”
Valanna nodded and teleported into the cell and disappeared. She returned a few moments later to the jail.
“Where did you put it?” Neel said.
“Podor Feely’s office,” she said, laughing. “Podor was actually there with his back to the door drinking something. I dropped the amulet, still in my pose and left. I don’t think he even noticed.” She thought for a few seconds. “I hope the Vashtans overreact when they teleport into his office.”
“Serves him right,” Neel said. “It’s time to move, that’s for sure. Harl is down two more Yellow Fox Vashtans. Every one less helps our cause.”
“Let’s get back and continue to review our plan,” Valanna said. She turned back and looked at the empty cell. She realized that Ben, Honor, and Nullia, Colcanans all, were leading the Santasian Magician’s Guild in Espozia. How trustworthy were all three?
~
Without a siege, the army could travel rapidly. Everyone carried three or four days’ worth of food and medical supplies. Neel taught the Blue Swan Vashtans the floater spell, and local carpenters spent all afternoon and into the night creating two hundred floaters out of doors stripped from the town.