A Single Candle

by S. J. Varengo

  “You are back sooner than I dared wish,” he shouted as they climbed off Valosa’s back. “Is everything alright?”

  “It went well,” Ban said.

  Kern held his hand to his nose. “Did they capture you and throw you into a latrine pit?” he asked.

  Ban chuckled. “No that was my own doing. As dirty as were able to make me look, I still smelled far too clean to blend in effectively.”

  “Clever,” said Kern, “but most offensive.”

  “Kern, stop teasing,” Slurr said.

  “I am quite serious,” Kern said, waving his hand in front of his face.

  “You are a little ripe,” the general laughed. “Now tell us everything. And quickly so that we can get you cleaned up before poor Kern perishes from the odor!”

  Ban recounted his adventure, focusing on the plans he had learned.

  “So,” said Parnasus, “the demon is changing his tactics. Not too surprising, when one considers how poorly his frontal attacks have been going.”

  “Zenk rears his ugly head again!” spit Kern. “I know that no wizard of the Light will harm another, but his embrace of the darkness so removes him from our number that I wonder if ending him would be forgivable.”

  The First Elder’s expression grew stern. “Kern! Do not allow yourself to be lowered to Zenk’s level. His evil is complete and it is unforgivable. But no wizard will lay a finger to harm him.”

  Kern grumbled a bit, clearly conflicted, but said no more.

  Parnasus went on, “However, should he fall by some other means, I will find it a challenge to mourn his loss. Still, if it is within my power to do so I shall endeavor to bring him back from the darkness. Now, no more talk of him. General, how do you propose to meet this new threat?”

  Slurr nodded his head. “Yes, I’ve already been thinking about that. So, Ban tells us that they will be looking to strike surreptitiously, picking off outlying platoons. But two can play at that game.” He looked toward his men and spotted Loar. “Smooth,” he called, “please gather the captains and bring them here. We have plans to lay.”

  A few moments later ten of Slurr’s unit leaders sat with him and the wizards. The general had also called for a cask of ale to be tapped, and he offered the men a drink. “Enjoy some of this fine ale. They brew it well here in Trakkas.”

  Ban’s stomach did a little flip at the mention of ale, and he asked if he might have some water.

  “Of course, little ally! What need would you have of ale? You have nerves of stone! These old codgers need to sooth theirs and bolster their confidence.”

  “Yes, what need indeed,” said Ban, remembering his last encounter with the drink.

  When all the men held their flagons, Slurr began.

  “Our young spy has returned with news that Surok intends to begin fighting an irregular war with us. He is sending out small platoons of Stygians to harry us and catch us off our guard, while learning our positions and our formations. I would beat them at their own contest,” he said.

  “We currently have several outlying units to provide advance protection to our main column here. These would be the Stygian’s obvious targets. I want those units reinforced, but not by increasing their numbers. Rather I would have these additional warriors find cover, and lie in wait for the attacks. When the Stygians reveal themselves, we will crush them. But do not wipe them out completely. I want prisoners. We need to be able to send them back with the information that Surok seeks.”

  “You want Surok to know what we’re doing?” asked Loar.

  “No. I want him to know anything but that. Kern, you can control the prisoner’s minds, can you not? You can confuse them, and implant false information?”

  “It would be very easy, though I would defer to Parnasus, as his skills in that area far outshine my own,” the wizard replied.

  “Then that is exactly what we’ll do. The men we let live will return to the outpost with as vast a collection of misinformation as has ever been passed along. I want Surok to believe we are weak and unprepared. I would draw him out. Him, not just his forces.”

  “But, Slurr,” said Parnasus. “Cerah has not yet returned. If you seek to finish Surok’s scourge, we will need her here.”

  Slurr smiled. “Cerah always arrives at the perfect moment,” he said. “Do not worry about her. She will come,” he said, confident in his wife’s timing.

  The talk went on for some time, as the details of Slurr’s plan were hammered out. As the men were about to disperse, Zayan approached carrying two large bundles.

  “What fresh gifts do you bring, dear friend?” Slurr asked, standing to greet him.

  “I have been working feverishly since we arrived at Trakkas,” he said, laying the sacks before the captains. “There are two hundred Riddue arrows in each of these bags. Distribute them among your archers. They fly longer and truer than standard shafts, and they will kill anything they hit.”

  “You couldn’t have shown up at a more opportune moment,” said Kern. “Our archers will play a vital role in what is soon to come!”

  Slurr agreed, clapping the dark-skinned Riddue firmly on the arm. “You have provided us with nothing but the finest equipment,” he said to his friend. “I know these will be more of the same.” He picked up the satchels and handed them to the captains. “See that all of your ranged fighters have these.”

  Turning to Ban he said, “Now, about that perfume you’re wearing…”

  Once again over the ocean, Cerah discussed with Tressida all that she’d learned in the Hall of Whispers. “Of course I know you heard everything,” she said to the dragon. “So, tell me. What did you think of Therrien’s story?”

  “So very sad,” Tressida answered. “It was tragic enough in its original version, but even more so now that the whole truth is revealed. How his heart must have grieved when he went to the Under Plane to find Therra, only to search in vain.”

  “I wonder at the ‘old hag’ he reported seeing when he first stepped through the shimmering. I first guessed it may have been Therra as her soul viewed itself, but I wonder. Could it have been Pilka?”

  “I suspect it was,” the queen said, “however even if the evil goddess wasn’t there when Therrien arrived, I doubt very much that she was unaware of his visit. I sense that very little goes on in that desolate plane without her knowledge.”

  “I’m sure that you’re right about that,” said Cerah. “I could kick myself for allowing her to fool me by appearing to me as Therra. I suspected nothing until that final moment when I saw them both.”

  “Do not punish yourself,” Tress countered. “I’m confident that she has fooled many with far less subtle trickery than she used on you. It is not difficult to speculate that a goddess who has abandoned everything good that the Creator placed within her in favor of hatred, anger and guile would be most accomplished at subterfuge. And although everything she attempted to do to you, from drawing you below to walking with you disguised as Therra, to sending you Between, was apparently intended to bring you to a place of weakness where Surok could kill you…all of it failed to achieve her goal, and in the end worked for good.”

  “Again, you’re right. But at the same time, I cannot allow myself to be caught off guard so easily. Quadar is polluted with deceit, and the Chosen One needs not to fall prey.”

  “Well, as the wizard spirits said, you never fail to learn from these experiences. She won’t be able to fool you so easily next time.”

  “I would be happy if there never was a next time,” Cerah said, shivering at the memory of Pilka’s foul presence. “But I know better than to hope for that. She will stop at nothing to see her vulgar creations defeat Ma’uzzi’s fair ones.”

  “It proved to be a fatal mistake to send you Between. Your mother met you there, you sent Ban to find Slurr from there, and you won your first skirmish with Surok there. All in all, a loss for her, I’d say.”

  “Well she certainly didn’t anticipate my mother’s visit. Of that I am sure. She i
s blind to the workings of Ma’uzzi now. As far as meeting Surok, I believe that was exactly what she was hoping for. I believe, as you do, that she thought the demon, who is used to moving in that plane, would have the advantage when we met. I believe that they still thought I would be easily eliminated in that setting. I’m sure they will learn from their mistake, just as I did. And as far as winning against him, I’m afraid I’d call it a draw at best. I hurt him, but he was able to get away.”

  Tressida said nothing for a moment, then asked, “Do you think if he had not kicked you into the portal to the Frozen South you would have defeated him then and there?”

  Cerah considered her answer before speaking. Finally she said, “I am not confident that I would have. As I said, I hurt him, but not enough to stop him from getting away. I must come up with a stronger attack than the magic I used while Between.”

  “I wonder,” said Tress, “will meeting him on this plane give you the advantage? For although he had been in his lair for a very long time, Opatta’s spell had bound him before he had finished forming his solid body. I would say that his thousand plus years encapsulated in blue crystal didn’t afford him the experience needed to succeed on the Green Lands as much as your seventeen years have given to you.”

  “I suspect that is part of the reason he blinks back and forth from Between, rather than staying always on this plane. But he’s had more than a little success on the Green Lands. We cannot forget Niliph.”

  “Nor shall we ever,” said Tressida. “But neither let us not forget Oz Qanoti or Thresh. I imagine he had anticipated far less opposition than he has met, especially after Niliph.”

  “Oh, he knows he’s in for a fight, that is certain. I don’t believe the creatures he leads are very good at adapting to changing events, but the demon himself is. He has failed in his past frontal assaults, which means he will likely contrive an alternative strategy. I wonder what Slurr is planning.”

  “You could always ask, you know,” said the dragon, “You are a magic user, remember?”

  “Don’t be fresh,” said Cerah, chuckling. “But of course, you’re right. I suppose it would be a good time to let Parnasus know that I’m on my way to join them as well.”

  Cerah closed her eyes to block out the panoramic view that sitting upon Tressida’s back afforded her, and focused her mind on Parnasus’s kindly face. “Elder, I come. What news from the front?” she projected. A moment later her eyes opened and she smiled.

  “He said Slurr is weaving a great trap. And he told us to ‘hurry our tails!’”

  Tressida laughed. “That is good news indeed. I guess we should do as he asks.”

  Cerah was a little surprised by this response. “I assumed we were hurrying,” she said.

  “Not really. We have a nice tailwind, so I haven’t been pushing myself all that much.”

  “Could you, perhaps?” she asked the dragon.

  Again, the queen’s intoxicating laughter filled Cerah’s mind. “Hold on, then,” she said and immediately increased her speed by almost double. Cerah had to put her hand on Tress’s back behind her to steady herself. “Whoa!” she exclaimed.

  “You asked me to hurry,” the queen said.

  “And I know you always try to do as I ask, but I was not prepared for such a burst!”

  “I had planned on reaching Trakkas by nightfall. Now I think you’ll be in time for dinner!”

  “Good!” Cerah laughed. “The food in camp isn’t as good as the fare on Melsa, but it is still delicious, and all this speeding through the air is making me hungry!”

  “You? I’m doing all the work!” the golden dragon said, feigning indignation.

  “Not so!” said Cerah. “I’m leaning when you turn.”

  “Ah yes, to help keep from tipping over! Besides, I’m flying in a straight line!” Tressida shouted.

  “I’m teasing you, darling! Of course you are doing the work. I’m grateful that you’ve invited me along.”

  “Oh, I intend to invite you everywhere. Don’t expect to be out of my sight again. After your escapade in the Thresh city square, you will not soon escape my supervision!” And then, just to give Cerah something to think about, she banked hard to the right.

  “Don’t forget to lean!” Tressida joked.

  They laughed together as the miles of water sped by beneath them.

  Slurr’s forces were all in place. His original outlying platoons remained unchanged. To all appearances, they sat exposed and unaware of any danger; easy prey. But in fact, they were bounded on three sides by units of fifty men and women. Only their western flank remained unguarded, as that was the direction from which the Stygians would approach.

  The hidden warriors did not have to wait long.

  Although the Stygians had been instructed to use stealth, the soldiers of the Light could hear them coming from quite a distance as they moved through the underbrush. Loar Pilta whispered to the warrior closest to him, a stout and hardy female fighter named Odette. “Are they sneaking or rolling across the ground like children down a hill?”

  “They are making our job much easier,” said Odette softly.

  “Ready your bow,” Loar said, then he turned to the remainder of the platoon and gave a hand signal which instructed them to do the same.

  A moment later a figure appeared from the brush. It was a boy of maybe twelve years. Ban’s age, Loar thought.

  Crouching, the lad looked around. When he was satisfied that there were no more warriors than the ten sitting by their tents, he turned and whispered something, prompting about thirty more Stygians to appear. Once in the clearing they paused, waiting to see, Loar supposed, if the outlying unit had spotted them. When there was no reaction from the small camp, the boy signaled for the others to drop to the ground. Once so positioned, they began to crawl closer to the apparently unsuspecting warriors. When they had gone about ten feet, Loar gave a hand signal ordering his platoon to fire. At the same time arrows flew from the other two hidden divisions. Before the raiders knew what had happened, the majority were dead.

  Following the volley, the men who had been sitting as bait rushed toward the wounded Stygians, shadowed immediately by the hidden warriors. They finished off the would-be attackers in short order, though Loar spared the boy who had led the others into the ambush. His injuries were minor, as he’d been hit by an arrow in the calf. It had been painful, but not life-threatening. The giant man grabbed the boy by the scruff of the neck and lifted him off the ground, the arrow still protruding from his leg.

  “You’ve got an appointment with a wizard!” he growled.

  “I’ll not be in the company of any wizard, ya great fat kvarna!” the boy shouted.

  “Oh, you’ve got some fight left in you, eh?” asked Loar. “We’ll see about that. You’re a prisoner of war now, you see? In general prisoners don’t get to say how things will go.” He reached and quickly pulled the arrow out of the boy’s leg, causing him to let out a scream of pain. As he tossed the bloody shaft to the ground he said, “And I’m not fat, I’ll have you know. I’m big-boned!”

  With that he tossed the squirming lad over his shoulder and started back towards Trakkas. The remainder of the troops stayed behind, with the ambushers taking up their positions among the overgrowth once more.

  “Should any more of these ignorant rodents show up, give ‘em hell!” the captain instructed his charges.

  He was rewarded by a chorus of “Aye, Captain,” as he headed to find Slurr.

  Four other outlying units met with the same success as had Loar’s fighters. By late afternoon, Slurr stood over six men and three boys, all of them bound hand and foot. They were seated facing him.

  “You are the first Stygians I’ve had the displeasure of addressing,” he said to them. “I do not know why your people have chosen to side with a demon of darkness. Can any of you offer an explanation?”

  For a moment no one answered. At length, a grizzled old man, clearly far past the age at which he could have been an ef
fective soldier, said, “We’d do anything to ha’ the chance fer revenge!”

  Slurr looked at him in silence for a moment. “Revenge? Against who? The ones who stopped your mad king and gave your people a chance to regain their senses and rejoin Illyrian society? You were not wronged, old man. Besides, you could not have been alive when that war was fought. Have you inherited your Great Papa’s grudges as well as his ugly face?”

  The man was clearly stung by the insult, but said nothing more, clamping shut his gray stubble-covered jaws defiantly.

  “Whatever your reason for making this utterly ill-advised decision, it is time for you to rectify the damage Surok has caused you to wreak. Elder, please step forward.”

  From within the crowd that surrounded the prisoners, Parnasus wound his way to the front. He stepped toward the captives. As he did so they began to shout insults at him. As much as they may have hated the humans that they considered to be their enemies, their malice toward wizards was greater by a hundredfold.

  “Well, a rather rude greeting, I must say,” said the First Elder, smiling in the face of their rancor. “Your usefulness to Surok has come to an end. You are to become servants of Ma’uzzi now.”

  “Never!” screamed the old man. “We pledge our bodies an’ minds to Surok!”

  “Well, in your case especially, you haven’t offered him much of either. But enough!” Parnasus lifted his staff and with its shining tip made a horizontal red line in the air. As soon as the streak appeared, the prisoners fell silent. They still struggled against their bonds, however and Parnasus shook his head. “That behavior will not do,” he said, and with another motion from his staff he drew a vertical line through the first. As he did so, all wriggling ceased.

  Now the nine captives looked at the sign that hung in the air before them. Their eyes had grown wide with fear as they lost control, first of their voices, then of their muscles. Paralyzed and speechless, they looked again at Parnasus as he continued.

  “In a moment I will cast a spell upon you which will take away the final tool you have left: your feeble minds. Do not despair, I shall not turn you into squarants, although you’d be much less offensive in the form of those nut-gathering tree-dwellers. Instead I am going to implant false information into your memories. Why do I tell you this plainly? The answer is simple. I speak freely because there is nothing you can do about it! You’re going to return to your commanders full of untruths about your success against us, which should be amusing since there are only nine of you left alive – though I will deal with that question as well. And you will report what you have seen, though there will be no truth in it. You will tell your leaders, and thereby Surok, that we believed you were defeated utterly in the battle two days ago, and so sent the reinforcements elsewhere. You will tell them that Trakkas is ripe for conquest. You will advise them to inform Surok that he and his monsters can feast upon the hapless Trakkasians at will.