Terry W. Ervin

by Flank Hawk

  Road Toad’s face broke into a grin. “That was some sorcerer you faced down. Possibly a master, if not a grand sorcerer.”

  It was hard for me to tell if he was jesting or serious. I decided his words were serious.

  “Good thing for you, Flank Hawk, sorcery’s less effective against healers. And that your weak skills were able to counter his intent.”

  “How did Enchanter Jonas survive?” I asked, knowing enchanters are more vulnerable to magics because of their art.

  “The sorcerer wanted him alive. Only attacked Jonas’ lungs.” Road Toad pointed to his stomach. “Tried to paralyze the muscle that works them. And Jonas, I imagine, fought desperately with his magic.” Road Toad chuckled. “But, unfortunately for the sorcerer’s plans, you went and interfered with a quarrel in his back.”

  “Not before he attacked Grand Wizard Seelain.”

  “Even so, Grand Wizard Seelain is thankful, and Prince Reveron doesn’t hold her injury against you.” He nodded once, with a sharp gaze. “She’s still alive.”

  Road Toad held a finger to his mouth, signaling for silence. The servants knocked and waited for Road Toad to unbar the door.

  Road Toad remained by the door. “Bathe him, then help him dress. He’ll visit the healer as a soldier. If he is up to it, feed him.”

  Thankfully I didn’t have to raise my arms or lift my own feet as the servants knew their business. “Buckle on his sword and scabbard,” added Road Toad when they had finished.

  I took a few spoonfuls of the chicken broth while sitting up, but even that made me nauseous. “Thank you for cleaning and dressing me,” I whispered to the servant, turning my head away from the spoon. “I cannot eat.”

  “Very good,” said Road Toad, and they loaded me onto the stretcher. Bearing me, the servants followed Road Toad to the healer.

  Two days later I again found myself dining with Road Toad at the One-Eyed Pelican, eating watery fish soup and breathing stale, smoke-filled air. This time Private Shaws had joined us.

  “So,” asked Shaws, “what was that guard at the tunnel referring to? The one with the scarred chin.”

  “Corporal Drux?” Road Toad set aside his half-stale bread. “Let us say that he settled a dispute between myself and Colonel Brizich.”

  Shaws sent a questioning glance my way. I shrugged. “That’s the short of it. Colonel Brizich doesn’t care for me neither.”

  “Bahh,” said Shaws after downing the rest of his third ale. He smiled and shoved me in the shoulder when neither I nor Road Toad said anything further. “Well, he’ll have to take issue with that priestess who healed your heart.”

  That had been an uncomfortable experience. Moxel, the guard Road Toad had stabbed in the thigh, made veiled threats regarding what would happen if he ran across me outside the palace. And although the priestess repaired my damaged heart and the infection around it with apparent ease, weariness muffled her arrogant tone. Still, she’d recognized that healing magic had been worked against the sorcerer’s damage, and I wasn’t sure she believed the story about the goblin shaman.

  Road Toad and Shaws leaned close over the table, taking advantage of the boisterous crowd and ukulele player singing lewd ballads.

  “The prince called the mission a success,” grumbled Shaws. “Every man in my company except Brines died. Half are probably corpses.” His eyes narrowed. “The kind up and walking about.” Shaws took another deep drink. That was why we ventured to the One-Eyed Pelican with Shaws, to support him as he mourned his lost friends.

  I understood his loss, at least partially. Whenever I thought about Guzzy, recalling the good times, the pang of loss left me sad and empty. I’d never laugh with him again, ever. Keeping busy held that realization at arm’s length. And at least Guzzy wasn’t a zombie, an animated corpse, marching with the Necromancer King’s forces. I missed my family, but at least they’d fled the enemy’s advance in time. For Shaws, all but one of the comrades he’d trained and lived with—all dead or worse. I didn’t want to ask him about his family. What if they were dead too?

  Road Toad shared another drink with Shaws, but it was only his second. I hadn’t finished my first. After the last visit here, I didn’t want to be drunk on the way back to the palace.

  Neither did Road Toad. He patted Shaws on the shoulder and continued to console him, reminiscing about recent and past battles. The discussion reminded me of Pops Weasel and Short Two Blades. I pressed my fingers against the talisman under my padded armor. It was easier to reach since I hadn’t worn my breastplate at Road Toad’s suggestion. I missed those two mercenaries as well, but not as much as Guzzy.

  As Road Toad spoke and smiled, he met my gaze and nodded toward my ale. “Another, Flank Hawk?”

  “No,” I said, with my stomach turning sour. Pops and Short Two Blades were experienced mercenaries and they’d died. So could Road Toad. As always, I reassured myself that in a desperate battle, I’d fall before Road Toad. I forced myself to drain my tankard instead of pondering when I fell, if Road Toad would die trying to save me.

  “I understand,” Road Toad said to Shaws. “The mission had a heavy price. But the capture of that souled zombie.” His gaze flicked to me for a moment before returning to meet Shaws’. “Imperial Seer Lochelle, Prime Counselor to the King, has been working her craft on the creature.”

  I recalled my experience in the seer’s dark chamber. I wondered what the waters of her rune-scribed bowl would reveal. What thoughts and secrets could a souled zombie hold? What would Imperial Seer Lochelle’s blind eyes discover? Would it truly be worth the cost of Shaws’ comrades?

  “And,” added Road Toad, “Enchantress Thulease is lending assistance.”

  Shaws sat back, his thoughts probably matched mine. Imperial Seer Lochelle and Supreme Enchantress Thulease were two of the most powerful spellcasters in the kingdom.

  Shaws leaned close again. “The fortified city of Morthis is expected to fall, soon. Or so I’ve heard. And the effort to retake the Faxtinian Coalition’s capital, Paris–Imprimis, has failed.”

  “As we speak,” whispered Road Toad, nodding in acknowledgement of Shaws’ information, “Prince Reveron is meeting with the king and his council. I do not know the details, but it is a bold plan the prince proposes. Maybe more risky than our last mission.”

  Shaws slammed his fist against the table. No one in the loud tavern took notice. “I’ll go if asked,” he said.

  “So will I,” said Road Toad.

  “Me as well,” I added, knowing I couldn’t turn down the prince, or Road Toad, if either would have me.

  Road Toad signaled the serving wench. “One more for each of us.” When she waved her meaty arm and turned to go, Road Toad cut another piece of bread from the stale loaf and laughed. “Might want to finish your soup, Flank Hawk. If the prince has his way, we’ll leave tomorrow night.”

  I stirred the greasy remains in the wooden bowl. “This is one thing I won’t miss.”

  Chapter 17

  The skies above the United States

  2,873 Years before the Reign of King Tobias of Keesee

  Three of the eighteen launched antiballistic missiles found legitimate targets, critically damaging the nuclear warheads before reentry. Those burned up and fell harmlessly to earth.

  The laser aboard the experimental ABM aircraft successfully targeted one of the three surviving warheads, critically damaging its internal electronic components. It fell to earth without detonating, landing in Puget Sound.

  The fifth of the six MIRVed warheads survived a near miss with an ABM and continued unhindered in its terminal dive, detonating 1200 meters above the Center for Disease Control in Atlanta, Georgia.

  I followed Road Toad while he inspected Hell Furnace, double checking the harness and straps for tautness and excessive wear due to constant scraping against the dragon’s rough scales. Thick clouds hid the moon and stars, making the task more difficult. Road Toad patted the dragon to let her know where we were while he whispered rem
inders about what he was doing and why. Even though it was impossible to hide three dragons in the palace courtyard, the departure had been kept as quiet as possible.

  “Eager to be in the saddle?” I whispered to Road Toad.

  “Is there a reason I shouldn’t?”

  I patted Hell Furnace on the foreleg. Her deep, hollow breathing was calming. “Thanks for keeping me as your aft-guard.”

  Road Toad reached up and patted the serpentine neck of his mount, causing her to lift her head. “You’re a steady man, Flank Hawk. And you have a knack for surviving.” He rechecked the buckles and straps that secured our equipment. “You may want to withhold thanking me until we return.”

  His voice hinted at mirth, but sounded more solemn. Although our destination had been withheld, I suspected Road Toad had a good idea. As a serpent cavalryman, he’d at least know the initial direction of travel.

  “Mercenary Flank Hawk,” called a quiet voice.

  I recognized it even before turning to see Grand Wizard Seelain’s white hair catching the distant torchlight. She’d stepped wide around Hell Furnace, coming from Prince Reveron’s serpent mount, Night Shard. She still wore an eye patch. Road Toad said it would take several spell sessions and many days to fully regenerate her ruptured eye.

  I bowed my head. “Grand Wizard Seelain.”

  “I regret that I will not be joining you on this journey.” I caught her eye flicking towards the prince’s mount.

  I knew she wanted to accompany the prince, but my impression was that the prince felt every moment of delay invited greater peril both for ourselves and the Kingdom of Keesee. “Grand Wizard, I would have been honored to serve as your personal guard once again. It is possible, that upon our return, the opportunity will once again be available.”

  “Our paths depart for now, Mercenary Flank Hawk. While I am not a seer, I feel that they may yet cross again.” She held out a white cloth wrapped around a thin object. It appeared to have silver strings securing the wrapping. “For your crossbow.”

  I held out my hands and she set the wrapped quarrel in them. “Although it exhausted me, it will hold the spell only until sunset ten days hence. I am confident you will use it wisely should the need arise.”

  “Thank you,” I said, again bowing my head. “Your gift is very generous.”

  She lifted the hem of her robe from the ground and took a step back. “Ward the prince as you would me.”

  “I will.”

  “Mercenary Road Toad, or Major Jadd,” she said slyly, “return my prince, and my favorite mercenary guard, to me.”

  Road Toad nodded once. “I shall do my utmost to fulfill your request, Grand Wizard.” Without further comment she turned and strode back toward Prince Reveron.

  Road Toad held Hell Furnace steady while I climbed aboard. I smiled to myself when I realized that without thinking I’d placed my right foot into the first leather loop, allowing my left to slip into the second as I climbed. I dug my right boot into the stirrup before swinging my left leg over the saddle. After Road Toad mounted, I stowed the crossbow bolt in a saddlebag and tightened the anchoring straps across my thighs.

  “I believe you have the respect of the grand wizard,” Road Toad commented over his shoulder. He waved ready to the prince and his aft-guard, Private Shaws.

  Serpent Cavalryman Sabfried, who I guessed was a water wizard by the faint blue hue of his skin, along with the stout dark-skinned woman who served as his aft-guard, waved to Prince Reveron from their serpent mount. Even Road Toad was at a loss as to the dark warrior’s bow whose string looped through miniature pulleys.

  With a few words of urging, Hell Furnace leapt and beat her wings, following the two black dragons, Frothing Maw and Night Shard, up into the warm night sky.

  That night we flew north out over the Tyrrhenian, but remained within sight of the shore. In times of war fishing vessels don’t venture out at night and we only had to swing outward once to avoid flying over a merchant galley.

  Before morning we found refuge between several hills in an isolated grove of trees. Using a spring-fed stream that flowed nearby, Prince Reveron and Cavalryman Sabfried combined their magic to cover the area with an early morning fog.

  The prince joined Road Toad and me around the small campfire. Road Toad was busy boiling chicken eggs in a cast iron pot and cooking biscuits on a flat stone along the edge of the fire. During my patrol of the area after landing, I’d gathered some cattail shoots. I peeled and cut them before adding their white core to the boiling water.

  Road Toad smiled. “Don’t like them raw?”

  I shook my head, watching as the prince pulled and unrolled parchment from a leather case. It wasn’t until that moment that I saw the large ruby on the pommel of his sword. Road Toad just noticed too that Prince Reveron again carried the Blood-Sword.

  Prince Reveron signaled us closer. “Now that we’re away from the palace,” he said, placing small stones on the corners of the map, “it is time you knew some of the details of our mission.”

  He moved his finger along the map as he spoke. “We’re here.” I recognized the location of the Northern Kingdom of Keesee where he pointed, just below the Doran Confederacy. “Where our last mission took us mostly north around into the mountains, we will travel this way.” His finger ran west, then north around the city labeled Paris–Imprimis in the heart of the Faxtinian Coalition, to the coast.

  “Risky,” commented Road Toad. “The Coalition is overrun by the enemy. Goblins, ogres, zombies.” Road Toad checked the map again. “We’re traveling light. I assume you’ve arranged safe layovers and resupply?”

  The prince shook his head. “A dragon trio left a day ahead of us. Just our side of the border with the Coalition they’re leaving a cache in an isolated area like this. Road Toad, you recall Lord Mendenhall’s burned-out estate?”

  After Road Toad nodded, the prince looked around. “We’ll let the fog dissipate so as not to draw attention.”

  Road Toad checked the fire and the progress of the meal. “Where to after that?”

  “The Reunited Kingdom,” Prince Reveron said. That got both our attention. “Even if they don’t know we’re coming, I have a writ.” He patted his satchel. “Simply laying over, and again resupplying.” Then he pointed to a small set of islands to the north of the Reunited Kingdom, running his finger northwest over to an island. He then slid his finger across the Western Ocean some more to a large land mass then down it, southwest and then west towards its center. “Somewhere out here.”

  I knew there was no need for me to ask why. If the prince didn’t explain further, Road Toad would surely ask. The prince brushed the rocks off his map and rolled it back up. “We seek a way to destroy the factories of the enemy. The places they build the panzers, artillery and Stukas.”

  Prince Reveron sat back, cross-legged, with his hands on his knees. “Are those eggs ready?”

  Road Toad shook his head. “No, and the cattail has to cook longer too. The biscuits in a few minutes.”

  “Your biscuits have always tasted like balled pie crust.” The prince grinned. “I should have brought honey.”

  “Eggs on an outing such as this are rare enough,” said Road Toad. “You could skip my biscuits. Flank Hawk will eat your share.”

  Prince Reveron asked me, “I take it you prefer yours crusty on the outside and uncooked on the inside?”

  It seemed awkward to talk so freely with the prince. Still, I replied, “I’ve found that Road Toad is many things, but not a cook. Or a judge of fine food.”

  “Very true,” said the prince. “Even so, I have fond memories of training under you in my youth, Major Jadd. Sometimes I long for those days, but not for your biscuits.”

  We had a good laugh, but then the prince’s eyes looked into the fire, and became serious once again.

  Road Toad asked, “Our mission has something to do with the captured zombie?”

  “It does. Its soul is a damned one, summoned back from before the fall o
f the First Civilization. That is how the enemy learned to build the weapons he sends against us.” The prince frowned. “Scientists and engineers reviving weapons and methods of war from the past. The one we have is evil, and I believe he was evil to the core long before being summoned and anchored in a corpse. The enemy has many more like him.”

  I knew that damned souls served and were the playthings of demons. “If his soul was damned,” I said, “he’d have to have been evil.”

  “But this one was damned before the rise of demons and magic.” The prince leaned forward. “We go to trade with one of the greater elves.”

  That got our attention even more than landing in the Reunited Kingdom. The prince wasn’t talking about sprites or pixies. I’d always been told greater elves were nothing more than a myth. A bard in Pine Ridge once sang a ballad hinting that Fendra Jolain, and Uplersh, goddess of the seas, were actually great elves.

  “Oh, yes,” said Prince Reveron, answering my wide eyes, “they exist.”

  What did Prince Reveron intend to trade? What did he hope to get? The prince didn’t answer either of those unasked questions. Instead he asked, “Flank Hawk, it was reported you saw souled zombies bearing the sign of the long-toothed tiger?”

  “I did, Prince. In the tunnels. On their shields.”

  Road Toad used a flat stick to get three of the six eggs out of the small pot, tossing one to the prince and one to me. “Prince, are the rumors true?” he asked. “That the cult of the long-tooths has returned to fight for the enemy?”

  After tossing his egg from hand to hand to cool it, Prince Reveron cracked the egg on a stone. “Yes, and no.” He lifted several cattail stalks from the water and set them on the rock. “They have returned, but they do not fight for the enemy.”

  Road Toad scowled as he handed the prince and me a biscuit. “Then who do they support?”

  “We have yet to learn,” answered the prince. “But they have begun stalking and slaying our brothers.”