Still stunned, Ban said, “I was told your mother was human.”
Now Cerah smiled warmly. “It is a rather long and complicated story,” she said, “and one which I will be happy to tell you at another time. But I promise you everything I’m saying is true. The spirit of my departed mother told me all about Slurr’s birth circumstances, and about your own.”
She explained as carefully as she could about the fall of the House of Jacasta, and of Preena’s escape to Tarteel. “She has chosen to hide among the lowly, thinking that those who killed your father and grandfather would not think to look for her, or you, among those of humble existence. But surely you must see the signs. Your faces are like each is looking at the other from a mirror. And you, who never saw the inside of a schoolroom, speak with the intelligence of one who has never missed a day of class! Slurr too, though he hid it from me for almost all our lives, has a brilliant mind. Granted, he had the advantage of being under the wing of Kern for his childhood years.”
“I was fortunate enough to know a very wise man as well. He was astronomer named Drakka, and he was a regular patron of an alehouse where my mother worked. Too regular perhaps,” Ban said, his rancor diminishing as Cerah continued to explain. “He saw something in me that was worth pouring into, I suppose.”
“I see it also,” Cerah confirmed. “So! Now you know. You have a big brother. And a sister-in-law!” she added, realizing this truth for the first time herself.
“A sister-in-law who has been chosen to save the world. I’d say that’s a little more impressive than being the child of money-grabbing robber barons,” Ban said, now smiling himself. He turned to Slurr. “I suppose we should hug or something,” he said.
Without warning Slurr threw his arms around the boy and lifted him off the ground. “Little brother!” he cried.
Ban’s cheeks puffed out, “Oof! You’re crushing me, you big lug!”
“He called me lug!” Slurr exclaimed to Cerah, not loosening his grip on the boy one bit. “He’ll fit right in!”
Ban groaned. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, barely able to talk, due to Slurr’s constrictor-like embrace.
“Slurr, you’re going to kill him!” Cerah laughed. As her husband finally set his brother back down she said, “I have called him Lug since we were little children.”
“That and ‘Oaf’,” Slurr laughed.
“Both apt titles!” said Ban as he struggled to regain his breath. “And as far as family similarity, I am much better looking than he is.”
The three family members shared a laugh, but after a moment Ban grew serious once more. “I hope this doesn’t mean you will stop letting me serve the Light,” he said to his brother. “You were too protective of me before we knew this, agreeing only after Yarren convinced you that I was perfect for the job.”
Slurr considered this for a moment. “I am reluctant to place you in danger,” he said. “Perhaps much more so now. But I cannot deny that you have made a pivotal contribution to our mission, and I sense your part in this is not over, though I’m not sure what your next play will be. Sneaking you into the enemy camp again may not be possible or practical.”
“Let’s not worry about that right now,” interjected Cerah. “We must postpone further celebration and prepare in earnest for Surok’s next move. Your plan was brilliant, my love, and I am sensing that the demon may just play right into our hands. Ban, I would have you remain in our camp, rather than send you into Trakkas to hide. It has been my experience that when Ma’uzzi’s plans fall into place, our actions become obvious to us. And he made it clear that you are to be a part of what’s to come.”
“Thank you, Cerah,” the boy said. “I was hoping for just that, though I was afraid to ask this guy. He was ready to make me put on a dress and hide among the little girls!”
“I never suggested any such thing,” Slurr said. “Though now that you mention it…”
“Forget it! The Chosen One has spoken!”
Cerah laughed. “Don’t try to play that card with him,” she said. “He is my husband, and is my equal. I command the forces of the light, wizard and human alike. But my partner and soulmate has as much to say about what happens in our family as I do.”
Ignoring her Ban turned to his brother. “Chosen One. Spoken.” he said.
Slurr cuffed him, perhaps a little harder than he intended, though without malice. “Alright, alright! You can stay. But let’s find a dress all the same!”
“NO!” shouted Ban, running away laughing.
As he disappeared among the warriors, Slurr turned to his wife and took her small hands into his large ones. “To be this happy in a time of war seems almost criminal,” he said.
“You deserve all the happiness that comes to you, whenever and where ever it happens. Surok’s evil will not rob you of this moment,” she replied. “Now come! I need to speak to your captains. Gather them while I ask Kern to muster the flight leaders.”
“I’ll call them at once,” Slurr said. “And, Cerah?”
“What, Lug?”
“Thank you.”
“You are ever welcome. Now hurry!”
The nine survivors of the sneak raids stood before the outpost commander and the wizard Zenk. The mage was obviously skeptical of everything they were saying.
“So again, you vanquished all the outlying fighters?”
“Oh, yes!” they said in unison.
“And you say the remainder of the army is in disarray, and that the reinforcements have all been sent elsewhere?”
“Oh, yes!”
“You will stop doing that at once!” the wizard shouted angrily. “I know you are a stupid people, but must you work so hard at it? Now, I want an answer, from you only,” he said, pointing to one of the men in the small group. “You say that one of the outliers told you, before you heroically finished him off, that the idiot boy-general assumed that his minor victory in the forest had depleted Surok’s divisions in Stygia, and that in anticipation of our dark leader’s next move, he sent them where?”
“To Kier!” replied the spellbound man.
“All the way to Kier. I see.” Zenk rubbed his beard and considered this.
“Now tell me again, how is it that if you were completely victorious, only nine of you tick-worms have returned?”
One of the boys spoke up, his voice clear and flowing with certainty. “The rest ran all the way back to Stygia to celebrate with their families.”
“I have just come from your cesspool of a city. No warriors have returned there.”
A third survivor said, “You must have just missed each other along the way!”
“Oh, by the Under Plane,” said the exasperated wizard.
The nine stood at attention, with foolish smiles on their faces. Zenk looked hard at them, and then attempted to peer into the mind of the man who had reported that the enemy had sailed off for Kier. Zenk prided himself at his mastery of the magic of discernment, but he found the mind of this insect so cluttered with random, stupid thoughts that it was difficult to determine the veracity of what the fool was telling him. Still, after spending an agonizing few minutes sifting through contemplations of brazed meat, a broken window that needed fixing, cold bartleberry pie, and a very large toothless woman with her flabby arms outstretched, he realized that, at the very least, the man absolutely believed what he was saying was the truth.
Breaking the connection, he spun to face the garrison commander. “Why Kier? Why all the way on the other side of the planet? I do not doubt that they are nearly as stupid a lot as you people,” he said, “but this exceeds the boundaries of idiocy! Surely they most know that Surok himself reigns within the walls he built around Stygia. How could they believe that a tiny, exploratory battle force represented the full might of the great demon?”
“Dunno,” said the commander.
“Oh, you smooth talker! You intellectual!” said Zenk derisively, “Clearly I see why you’ve been placed in command of this outpost!”
<
br /> I hesitate to bring this news to the Mouthpiece, Zenk thought. The Silestra do the bidding of Surok mindlessly, but they are not mindless. If this all sounds too good to me, how shall it appear to him? They are looking for an excuse to devour me. If I tell them the army of fools has left Illyria, am I giving them just that?
Zenk paced back and forth for several minutes, as the nine enchanted puppets stood ramrod straight, staring directly ahead. As he glanced at them, he took their vacant expressions and ridiculous smiles as nothing more than a condition of their feeble-mindedness. Finally, he made a decision.
Very well. I will bring this report back to Stygia. The dark races can march through Trakkas, tearing apart the unfortunate, misguided people of that city, and bathe in their blood, as they so love to do. And then on to Senchen, or south to Driada. Whatever the evil one desires. And perhaps this block-headed people can realize their centuries-old dream of conquering the continent, though I doubt Surok will allow them to survive the conquest.
He turned back to face the nine Stygian warriors. “If you are lying to me, or even if you’re mistaken, I will see to it that you suffer long, and that your screaming, pain-soaked deaths stand as an example to the rest of your insignificant race.”
“Oh, yes!” they called, in unison once more.
“Enough!” shouted Zenk, as he stormed to his waiting dragon. As he mounted Balthus and kicked his sides to impel him to fly, he thought to himself, Please let this not be the excuse the Silestra have been coveting!
An hour later Zenk delivered the survivors’ news to the Mouthpiece. They stood together outside the throne room of the Palace of the Royals.
The doors to the chamber were made of darkly stained brattlewood and rose high above both of them. Although the Stygians did not yet know it, their king was dead. Surok had decided to take up residence in the throne room, as it was large enough to accommodate him and though no better appointed than any other edifice in this wretched city, it was, in name at least, an imperial chamber, worthy of his stature. However, he had quickly grown weary of the doughy regent, and had in a moment of particularly ill humor, grabbed him in his mighty claws and casually popped him into his mouth. Since then the demon sat brooding in the room, being prattled over by a slew of karvats, passing his orders to and receiving word from the Mouthpiece.
The Silestran’s evil, scarred face was a mask through which Zenk could not see. As he gave his report, Zenk made sure to express his own skepticism, but reported that when he had peered into the warrior’s weak mind, he found no deceit. The man was completely sure of the information he was sharing. When he asked the Mouthpiece if the Stygian warriors had returned to the city at the unit leader had reported he was told brusquely that the Silestra did not monitor the comings and goings of the Stygians, who they considered little more than food.
After long, silent consideration the Mouthpiece asked, “Could they truly be so foolish?”
Zenk considered his answer carefully. “I have no problem believing that the boy-general and the witch could make such a grievous error. For all her supposed power and his renowned battle-prowess, they are still little more than children. They cannot comprehend the mind of Surok. Yes, they could be that stupid. I wonder that the wizards who fight with them could err so, however. Parnasus is a fool in his own right, don’t misunderstand me. But no wizard of Melsa could be so easily deceived.”
“The girl has been dealt with,” said the Mouthpiece, shuddering slightly at the mention of her nonetheless. “She dwell’s with Surok’s mother in the Under Plane.” The Mouthpiece glared at him, but said nothing more, leaving Zenk feeling that he should.
“Still,” he continued finally, striving as ever when facing the ebony-faced creature not to let his voice quiver, “Parnasus places as much stock in the boy as he did in her. If he decided that the army should move to Kier, then the old fool will go along, even if he is not fully convinced of the wisdom of doing so.”
The Mouthpiece remained silent for so long that Zenk began to fear it had its long-awaited excuse, and would turn on him at any moment. Finally, it seemed to reach a decision. “You will remain here,” he said to the sweating wizard. “I go to Surok.”
Without another word, he turned on his heels and marched to the sturdy door. Raising his giant fist, he pounded a single time on the portal. Seconds later it opened just wide enough to allow him to pass through, then slammed shut once more.
Zenk was beside himself. He never knew what the Mouthpiece was thinking, unless he was actively threatening him. He could be relaying the report to Surok, or he could be telling the demon that the time had come to dispense with the traitor wizard. The fact that he’d been instructed to wait did not ease his mind one iota. It could be that he would return with Surok’s orders, to be passed along to the warriors at the outpost. Or it could just as easily be that he wanted him there so that he didn’t have to hunt for him now that the time had come for him to be eaten.
It seemed to him that he had been standing in the antechamber for hours when the door creaked open once more. The Mouthpiece stepped out and loomed over Zenk, who had all he could do not to cower.
“Mount your worm,” he said in his booming, broken voice. “We march to the coast to board the black ships once more. Surok is going to Kier.”
“To Kier? What? Why? Why not march across Illyria? It is defenseless! He can take it is easily and as utterly as he did Niliph!”
The monster’s arm flashed out so quickly that Zenk did not see it move, but he felt it as the huge hand grabbed him by the throat and lifted him. “You would question Surok? Foolish parasite! Your duty is to obey his every word, his every thought! If Surok says Kier, it is Kier! The Silestra and their children are already marching to the coast. The karvats are finishing a task in the city, then they too will follow.”
“What of the Stygians?” Zenk managed to choke the words out, though his vision was already fading as the Silestran continued to squeeze.
“The karvats will harvest enough to feed us. The rest will remain within these walls. Surok is finished with this race of addle-brained scum.”
Just before Zenk fell unconscious, the Mouthpiece released his grip and the wizard dropped to a heap at his feet, coughing and gasping desperately. “Climb upon your mealy dragon and fly west. If you ask another question, I will gleefully kill you.”
He wheeled away once more and again banged his fist on the throne room door. By the time it had opened and closed, Zenk had fled the palace.
14
The Miscalculation
The Army of Quadar was completely prepared for the anticipated attack on Trakkas. Large units where positioned near the boundary of the forest, through which it was assumed that Surok’s forces would come. The remainder formed a firm column closer to the city. Slurr estimated the total size of his force at about forty thousand, which was far smaller than that which had sought to assault the demon in his lair. This was due both to the decision to increase the size of all defending forces on the ten continents and to the losses they had suffered. Even still, he was confident that the warriors who now waited for the assault were more than capable of defeating their enemy.
But the attack did not come.
They had been waiting now for two full days, and there had been no sign of an offensive. “Cerah,” Slurr said as they stood before the column closest to Trakkas, “why are they waiting so long? Surok’s monsters should be drooling at the news that Trakkas is undefended.”
“I have no doubt that they are,” she replied. “But we are dealing with a Surok who at every turn has been bested in recent times. I suspect Zenk will have tried to divine the truth of the reports that the nine charmed survivors gave. But Parnasus’s spell was unassailable. I don’t know what else the traitor would find in their minds, if anything. But he will certainly discover that the nine were absolutely convinced that everything they were saying was true. So Surok will be told exactly what you wanted him to be told.”
“Then
where is he?” Slurr asked, with more than a little hint of desperation in his voice.
“Darling, you said yourself that during counsel with the wizards you all agreed that Surok’s actions grow ever more erratic. I believe you even concluded that he acts as one who is insane. A rational leader, upon receiving news that his goal is assailable, would pounce at once. Surok is not rational. He is waiting, for reasons I can’t claim to know. But your plan was sound. The attack will come.”
The instant Cerah spoke those words the sky to the west grew brilliantly illuminated. Slurr and Cerah had both seen this phenomenon before, and they turned to each other with expressions of horror at the memory.
“It is the same light we saw when Kamara vanished!” Cerah managed to say after several seconds.
Around them warriors gasped at pointed as the light, which though far off was still painful to see, reached higher and higher into the sky. Cerah could see fear spreading through them. As she struggled to decide how to react, Kern and Yarren ran to where they were standing, gazing at the flash.
“Cerah, you saw it. I was in the cave and did not,” said Kern, “is it the same?”
She nodded, knowing that he was referring as well to that horrid day. Kern turned to Yarren and said, “Ten riders, at once. That light is the same as the one that destroyed Kamara. Fly to Stygia and report back. Be wary. The flash that wiped out that city carried with it buffeting, burning winds. I suspect that they will have dissipated by the time you reach the source, but take care nonetheless. Also look for enemy movement along the way.”
Without a word Yarren turned and ran among the wizards who were stationed around the perimeter of the battle unit, tapping nine to join him. They took off a minute later, flying hard to the west, where the light was already receding.
“It must be Stygia,” Kern said as they watched the flash continue to fade. “There is nothing else in that direction. It is too far north to have been Driada.
“But that is their base!” said Slurr. “Why would Surok destroy his own stronghold?”
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