by Rosie Scott
Our armies had just broken through the edge of the forest when we stopped and quieted our men. We'd asked our griffon messenger to wait for us near the Caravaneer Road. We were on time with our travel predictions, but the messenger was not in sight.
Calder walked up to me, shirtless and smelling like the salt of sweat. He had the hood of his shirt on his head even though the rest of its fabric laid on his back, letting his body heat dissipate into the air. Glistening beads of sweat dotted his smooth periwinkle skin, and he perspired so profusely that some of it ran down his flesh like rain.
Calder blinked rapidly when his own sweat dripped in his eye and burned it with salt. “I changed my mind, love. Not living here.”
I chuckled. “There's a great lake in the center of Chairel you can play in, and don't forget that Sera is on a mountain and close to the northern coast. You have options. Until then...” I reached over, digging a finger between his hip and the hem of his trousers and pulling the fabric until it snapped back in place. “Let it air out. That's where all this heat comes from, anyway.”
Calder laughed. “I was wondering where you were going with that.”
“Keep dreaming, Cal.” Despite my jest, I built water magic in a palm. As Calder eyed it hungrily, I asked, “You ready?”
“Am I ever,” he replied. As I sprayed the water over him, he groaned happily and cleared his skin of its stickiness. “Gods, you are the best, love,” Calder complimented when I was finished.
“I know,” I teased, before motioning to some Alderi behind him. “Bring me a couple of buckets.”
I went about filling buckets with water before I turned one to ice. Our soldiers went about breaking the ice down and spreading the cubes into the water for drinking and heat relief. I dunked a metal mug into ice water before I took it over to Azazel, who stood at the forefront of our army and gazed south.
“Here,” I offered, when he didn't see the outstretched mug due to his peripheral blind spot.
Azazel glanced over and took the mug from me. “Thank you.”
As he took a few parched gulps, I asked, “Did you hear anything?”
“From the south, yes,” Azazel replied, not bothering to wipe the water from his lips so he could enjoy its coolness as it ran down his chin. “Not anything concerning. It sounded like someone rummaging through the brush. Either a spy or our messenger. Uriel went to check it out.”
He downed the rest of the ice water in seconds as I watched with concern. “Take your armor off,” I suggested.
“My hood is attached,” Azazel said, tugging at the black fabric. “And I need it right now.”
“Hey, love,” I called back to Calder. When he looked over, I asked, “Can you bring a hooded shirt over for Azazel?”
“Sure thing,” Calder replied, before going over to the men he had carrying their supplies.
Azazel smirked at me but was quiet. I told him, “I know you don't like relying on people but you can't play around in this heat. You can be so stubborn sometimes.”
“Says the woman the word stubborn was created for,” Azazel teased.
“Takes one to know one,” I retorted. As he chuckled, three figures emerged from the forest in the south.
Uriel held his spear, but it was clean since he'd carried it only as a precaution. Beside him walked a woman in yellow and black armor who led a griffon by its reins. The griffon was a solid shade of tan, its feathers glistening gold with every step. The animal was chewing on an absurdly long worm that still wiggled as it dangled out of the creature's beak.
“I apologize,” the messenger offered as they neared us. “I heard your army approach, but Jangles here refused to stop eating. He gets ornery without his fish.”
Jangles didn't have a care in the world. The griffon kept chewing the worm, finally lifting its head and swallowing the rest in one gulp.
Cyrus stepped forward to greet the messenger. He then turned back toward his army and called, “Griffon whisperer!”
“Yeah, boss?” Zephyr stepped through the crowds, going immediately to the griffon. “Ah, it's been a while, hasn't it boy?” She took the reins from the messenger and clicked her tongue. When Jangles didn't budge, she reached up to scratch the small feathers alongside his face and said, “We can do this the easy way or the hard way. Your choice, big guy.”
Cyrus watched with a mixture of amusement and impatience from a few feet away. “I'm so glad you do this so I don't have to.”
Zephyr chuckled. “It's rewarding.”
“If you say so,” Cyrus replied. “Do you mind moving Jangles to the side if he won't go back with the others? We have intel to go over.”
“It has to be his idea,” Zephyr said, motioning to Jangles.
“Oh, well.” Cyrus swooped an arm before the griffon as man and beast exchanged glares. “By all means.”
A few of us laughed at that as we waited for the griffon to follow Zephyr. When the two finally left the area, I went to stand beside Cyrus and said, “Your reign as king is a joke, Cy. We all know who really runs your army.” I jerked a thumb back to Jangles.
Cyrus chuckled. “This is why I don't deal with griffons.” He refocused on the messenger. “Did you find King Hasani?”
“I did,” the messenger replied. “I reached the border on the 68th of New Moon. The Naharan Army camped just below the border in the dunes. There were bodies everywhere. Many of them were Chairel soldiers, but many were Naharan. Most of them were decomposed and had signs of going to battle multiple times.”
“Were they in battle when you arrived?” I questioned.
“No. Many of the Naharans were recovering from a recent battle though. They took me to Hasani. He was in jovial spirits.” The messenger addressed me as she said, “Hasani says to tell you he wouldn't miss joining you in Comercio for the world. I told him we were planning on attacking in mid to late-Red Moon depending on how diplomacy with Celendar went. Hasani said he had a couple of things to handle before he moved north.”
“Like what?” Cyrus asked.
“Well, because they've been fighting at the border and fending off attacks from Chairel, Hasani said he's been keeping his army camped there indefinitely. They have supply lines delivering resources and new recruits to the border from Al Nazir and T'ahal. Hasani asked what the makeup of our army was. He seemed particularly concerned about our lack of cavalry because horses overrun Chairel. He told me he'll be putting out a last call for recruits to strengthen his numbers and he would gather as many mounts as possible before he advanced.”
Cyrus frowned and looked to me. “I didn't know the Naharans had cavalry.”
“Hyenas,” I replied. “They're deadly in battle, particularly against horses.”
“What are hyenas?” Uriel questioned. “Do they travel on land?”
“Yes. Four-legged hunter-scavenger animals,” I replied, remembering Theron telling me the same thing over a decade ago. “They look a little like giant dogs with manes. Have immense jaws that can crush bone. Very noisy, too. They laugh during battle.”
Uriel gave me such a perplexed face then that I couldn't help but chuckle. He asked, “Why were you shocked by our creatures in Eteri if there are giant dogs that laugh during battle in Nahara, Kai?”
“Oh, trust me, they intimidated me at first, too,” I replied.
“Why?” Calder's rough voice pulled our attention to where he listened in behind us. “With such a great sense of humor, surely they're great fun to have around.”
“It's one thing to have something laughing while you're in battle on its side,” I replied. “It'd be another to be rushing toward someone in battle if they were laughing while trying to kill you.”
“That's why Altan was so intimidating in battle,” Cyrus said, smiling fondly with nostalgia. “It caught foes off guard.”
The messenger nodded. “Hasani said he doesn't have as many hyenas as Chairel has horses but that Nahara has doubled its efforts at breeding them over the years.”
“Did he men
tion numbers?” I asked.
“He estimated ten thousand,” she replied.
“Ten thousand cavalry or ten thousand soldiers?” Cyrus asked for clarification.
“Cavalry. Including the Alderi reinforcements still living in Nahara, Hasani said he'll be supporting us with close to thirty thousand men.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. Thirty thousand was a low number compared to the rest of our army, but when considered in addition to my support from everyone else, I had built one hell of a rebellion.
Calder noticed my relief and said, “I told you that recruiting goes swimmingly in Nahara, love.”
“You did,” I admitted. “And thank the gods for it. Nahara hasn't had access to such numbers for generations.” Redirecting my attention to the messenger, I asked, “Considering all he has to do with collecting recruits and hyenas, did Hasani make it sound like he could meet us in Comercio on time?”
“Yes,” the messenger replied. “Hasani expects no trouble. He said that the last battle they had was cut short because a messenger of Terran Sera's delivered the news of his defeat at the Battle of Hallmar to Chairel's armies at the border and they retreated north. He thinks Chairel is gathering their armies to fight you on their turf. They know you work quickly. They expect your advance. Hasani assumes they'll split their army into parts to defend each city. Chairel knows your first concern is with Sera, and Hallmar is closer to Sera than Comercio, so they'll have a defense set up there. But they also know you wouldn't have allied with Nahara without asking for their help, so they've gathered forces in Comercio as well.”
“It's possible, then, that their largest forces are in Sera,” I commented.
“Even if they are, their army in Comercio is massive,” the messenger replied. “I knew I'd be early arriving here, so I flew as close as I could risk it to Comercio at night. The army there is so large they were forced to build camps and temporary housing on the plains. There are one hundred thousand soldiers there alone.”
A bout of dizziness pounded through my head. “One hundred thousand in Comercio. And you said they split their army.”
The messenger nodded.
“We'll work our way in from the outside,” Cerin said to me. I knew he was thinking about necromancy since his low scratchy voice held a tone of certainty. “A bit at a time, those numbers will become ours.”
I nodded. I thought of the underground and how we'd lost most of our living army, but we'd been victorious by utilizing masses of the undead.
“Death magic, Kai,” Calder mused. “It will be our secret weapon.”
“Not-so-secret,” Cerin corrected.
“Death magic and Kai,” Cyrus pointed out, giving his full attention to me. “You are a juggernaut on the battlefield, Kai. Chairel can supply as many soldiers as they want; they are only giving you fuel.”
The messenger noted this and hesitantly interrupted, “Hasani wanted me to warn you that through his interrogations of enemy soldiers he found out Chairel is using gods in each city's defense.”
“Gods,” Cyrus clarified. “Plural.”
“Yes. At least two in each city. Hasani doesn't know who they are or their powers, but they heeded Chairel's calls for godly support.”
“Well, that's four gods to look forward to killing,” I said dryly.
“Six,” the messenger corrected. “Don't forget about Narangar.”
Calder sighed facetiously and mused, “Fickle and golden-eyed, Kai.”
“They can be as fickle as they want to be, Cal,” I replied. “It won't matter when they're dead.”
The messenger fell back in line with the rest of our soldiers, and our trek to Comercio began. After a few days of travel, we left the soothing shadow of the forest behind, and the heat worsened. The Alderi were miserable. They were unused to such dreadful heat, and to make matters worse, they couldn't go nude to stay cool, for the direct sunlight blistered their skin after mere hours. Even though Calder kept his shirt hanging over his back so he could continue using its hood, the cloth did little to protect his skin. His chest and abdomen peeled until they bled, and the flesh on his back he'd meant to protect with the shirt was still burnt badly enough it pained him to move too quickly.
Thankfully, many of the Alderi were water mages, and Celendar had supplied us with enough alchemy ingredients with which to make protective lotions to last our army until Red Moon. When Red Moon finally came, the heat lessened until the stuffy air caved to the pressure of cool, crisp breezes that blew over the tips of the long grasses and encouraged them to trade their green hues for copper. Only a fortnight into the cooler season, Azazel spotted a single scout on a horse far ahead in the road. The scout noted our numbers and turned back around to return to the capital and report our advance.
It was the evening of the 62nd of Red Moon, 430 when our army arrived on the eastern outskirts of Comercio. Even though it was far too dark to see the armies that waited for us, we could see their campfires and lights made of the lesser magics. We sent Nyx and a few other assassins out to the city to scout it while invisible, and when the pitch blackness of night fell, we sent a griffon messenger to scout the plains in the south to look for the Naharans. In the meantime, our army set up camp and prepared for one final night of rest before a major battle.
Calder made a makeshift table of stacked crates from our supplies with which to draw out our battle plans. I unrolled a sheet of parchment and kept it secured on both ends using Calder's boots when he offered them. I summoned a bright whitish-blue illusion light on the toe of one boot, and the light cast the entire piece of paper in a helpful light.
The Seran Renegades, Cyrus and his Sentinels, Calder, and Rek all gathered around as I prepared a quill with ink. Nyx was the only one missing, but since she'd gone to the city to scout it hours before, we expected her back soon. As the others watched, I drew a large square on the map.
“Comercio is a large city with buildings that spread outward rather than upward,” I began. “Few of its buildings are more than a dozen stories high. A stone wall surrounds it, but many buildings are higher than its wall. Which means?”
Marcus replied, “The wall isn't that intimidating.”
“Right,” I affirmed. “Each side has a massive iron gate that is open throughout the day and closed at night.”
“Each wall?” Cyrus questioned. “And there are four?”
“Yes.” I glanced at Azazel. “Comercio means...?”
“Commerce,” Azazel replied.
“Comercio is a city of trade,” I continued. “It is like Hallmar in the respect that trade, commerce, and diplomacy is prevalent here. Its location in the center of Chairel and between Fremont and Nahara demands it. Caravaneer Road has four arms: north, south, east, and west. Each of these arms dead-ends into a gate. You cannot travel the entire road from one end of Chairel to another without going through Comercio.”
“Four entries, four weak points,” Dax spoke up. “Four different places to focus their defense.”
“Most likely three,” I argued lightly. I darkened the gate locations on the square I'd drawn with several strokes of ink before I pointed at the western gate. “The gate that leads to Narangar will likely be lightly guarded or not guarded at all. They expect Nahara's advance from the south. With the intel of their scouts, they will expect us from the east. Since they think we may have split up our armies and sent a unit around the northern Cel Mountains to Sera, they may expect an attack from the north. There is no reason to expect us in the west.”
“You want to take advantage of that,” Uriel surmised.
“I do,” I replied. “I want to avoid disintegrating the walls here like we did in Fremont. We will get resistance in Chairel, and they may try to retake the city. The walls are stone, and there aren't any mountains in range for a while in each direction from which to get resources. We won't be able to rebuild them quickly.”
“What's the plan for the walls, then?” Dax questioned.
I pointed at Marcus. The giant
grinned and said, “Now, don't I feel so special.”
“You should,” I told him. “While we attack their armies en masse from the east and north, and Nahara supports us from the south, I want your army to bypass the battle entirely.” I drew a curved arrow from the eastern exterior Comercio wall to the opposite, writing Marcus underneath. “Take your giants to the western gate.”
“Then what?” Marcus asked.
“You up for some climbing?” came my response.
The giant's eyebrow raised. “Sure.”
“You're about forty feet tall,” I said. “When you lift your arms, you're even taller. I'm positive you can grab the edge of that wall and lift yourself up, whether or not you use the help of your soldiers. Let yourself into the city, Marcus, using the least guarded gate of them all. Once you're in, open the gates. Each gate has a gatehouse just above it with a winch to control the portcullis.”
“So we'll be taking little friends with us,” Marcus said.
“You will be. I'm thinking a handful of invisible assassins who can get in there, open the gates, and kill off any defenders.”
“If they're invisible, we won't be able to see them,” Marcus pointed out. “How will we know where not to step or how to pick them up to bring them over the wall?”
“We can put them in crates,” I suggested, kicking the one beneath our plans.
Calder snorted a laugh. “Hiding in a box, ey? The ultimate deception.”
I shrugged. “You got any better ideas?”
Calder pointed toward the cannons we'd brought with us from Fremont. “Put the assassins in the cannons. Shoot 'em right in.” Maggie burst into laughter and Calder grinned, pleased to amuse.
We'd finished fine-tuning the plan details for Marcus when Nyx and the others came back from their scouting mission and dispelled their illusions.
Nyx saluted to me and said, “Reporting for duty.”
“You're fired,” I retorted dryly, making her and a few others laugh. “What did you find?”