Prophecy mtg-3

by Vance Moore

  Someone clearing her throat interrupted the couple. Shalanda stood thick with mud. She had been inspecting the battlefield and the casualties. She had just come from healing some of the wounded, and she breathed heavily as she recharged her strength to try again.

  "Seventy percent of the wounded should be ready for duty in two weeks, Barrin. But we might have a problem. That flu has cropped up again among some of the wounded and the personnel helping clear the battlefield. It may be a few weeks before the illness burns itself out," she declared. "That's fine," Barrin replied. "It will be a few months before we can concentrate enough forces to march east." He straightened, and his lips thinned. "I think we've turned a corner in this war. From now on, we take the fight to the enemy."

  Chapter 17

  Haddad woke at sea, his lungs burning as he breathed smoke from the censer swinging above his head. He thrashed and threw his hands over the sides of the stasis box. Haddad moaned in pain as his muscles shook with tremors and cramps. The crash of waves could be clearly heard in the hold as the former League officer gripped his head and coughed up the dust from his lungs.

  Lanterns swung from beams, and he tried to orient himself by their light. Latulla and her entire party had been interred in stasis boxes within minutes of the artificer's defeat. Slowly the party was being revived. They must be at or near Jamuraa.

  Iola knelt beside a stasis box, and Haddad could see Latulla's features in the changing light. She awoke almost gently, her eyes opening and the look of confusion fading in seconds. Haddad felt a surge of envy and wondered how Iola had spared Latulla pain.

  "We are just outside the colony, mistress," Iola said. "The council has exiled you here for life." She paused, and Haddad could hear the despair in her voice as she continued. "All your holdings are forfeit, and your retainers were expelled with you." Haddad remembered Iola's pride in managing Latulla's house and felt a little pity.

  "Why were we awakened at sea?" Latulla demanded as she levered herself up from the erstwhile coffin. No word or expression showed awareness of her servants' loss. "We should have been awakened after we safely docked."

  Latulla was in full regalia, and she tested the strength of her cane with a few sharp blows against the stasis boxes of her servants. She ignored the groans that issued as the human slaves clawed their way to consciousness. One slave uttered a curse, and Latulla tested her cane on flesh.

  "The League has attacked ships near the port," Iola answered, wringing her hands in worry. "The captain thought all passengers should be awake in case the ship was hit."

  Even though Haddad was in immediate danger, he felt a tremendous surge of hope at the news. The League was finally operating around the colony. Not only was his nation fighting back, but also escape might be easier with local forces in the area.

  "Everyone up on deck," Latulla ordered as she strode to the stair and forced her way up into the wind. The others followed her, still staggering as they recovered from stasis, but weakness was no excuse in Latulla's service.

  It was midday and the sun sent rays down through the clouds. Haddad wondered why the sea was so rough. Then he turned from viewing the coast and looked seaward. The clouds of a storm were piled high and dark. The captain nervously considered the storm as the ship sailed closer to the protected bay.

  "Captain, what's the problem?" Latulla demanded. The captain was a massive Keldon with a peg leg, which he pivoted on when Latulla spoke.

  "We had word from a warship that the League is trying to sink ships in port and block access to the piers," he explained. "I am waiting for an armed escort vessel to follow us in."

  "I will provide all the cover you need," Latulla said. She rapped the captain smartly on his wooden leg. "Take the ship in, and I will watch for League patrols."

  The captain opened his mouth to argue but decided to keep silent at Latulla's angry look. Haddad saw that the artificer wanted to show her strength after her defeat at Gorsha's hands.

  "Take her in," the captain ordered the helmsman. The sailor swallowed nervously and turned the ship's wheel to take them into the channel. Latulla sent Iola down into the hold to inventory what the council had allowed the artificer to bring with her. Haddad looked at the approaching coastline.

  How long had it been since he saw Jamuraa? He couldn't know. He didn't even know if this was the first time he was awake. Keld had made him doubt himself on many levels. He looked at the shore and wondered if he could ever go home again.

  The ship was inside the channel and moving into protected waters. The storm that loomed behind began to break up as the ship pulled closer to the dock. Latulla and all her supporters were back on deck, arranging themselves in lines and trying to appear impressive. Latulla sent crewmen and slaves from their regular duty stations into the ship's cargo areas to find additional clothes and weapons.

  The ship was docking, and Haddad could feel the tone of the propulsion spells changing as they moved the ship closer to the pier. A crowd was gathered, and freight handlers stood ready to empty the ship at a moment's notice. As the ship was tied off, Latulla walked to the gangplank.

  "I have returned to you with news that Keld is no more!" she shouted. There was a general air of confusion among the crowd and the ship's complement. "Keld has given up and rejected the prophecy that you have all acceptedthat this land is the home of heroes and must be reclaimed from the weak and corrupt League to the west."

  A few Keldons began cheering because they did believe that their birthright was being stolen. Other warriors and some slaves cheered because glory required a great cause. The rest cheered as Haddad cheered, because it was expected of them.

  Haddad considered the Keldon exiles as Latulla continued her exhortations. "You are Keld! All that Keld has been. The defeat of our enemies, the conquest of new lands, the construction of the future! You are the children of all who have gone before. It is time to pick up the prize left by the Heroes from whom we sprang!"

  Haddad's eyes locked on a familiar figure. It was Greel, Erissa's demonic assistant. Latulla had brought more than rhetoric from the land of her ancestors. How long would it take this cancer to grow in a new land? Haddad promised himself that his first act upon escaping would be to reveal Greel's nature. The children of Jamuraa would not lie in graves to feed the monster's appetite.

  "I bring you the future," Latulla said, spreading her arms wide. Haddad turned from the scene and considered the sea. Then he saw the nose of a blimp poke itself out of the stormy clouds that hung offshore.

  For a few seconds he was alone as the others concentrated on Latulla and her speech. It was not until the bombs fell that shouts drowned out Latulla's voice. The blimp was huge, and it withdrew back into the clouds as each bomb sprouted wings. The weapons' trajectories flattened, and their velocity increased. Shouts sounded as almost every slave ran for cover, with a few curling up on the ground and trying to shut out the world. Haddad saw them trampled by the running crowd, their flesh torn by shoes and boots. Warriors drew weapons and shouted challenges, but the airship was gone, and only the bombs remained to hear the futile cries. The weapons neared the water and came straight at the ship.

  "Why aren't the fire barges shooting?" shouted a warrior who had accompanied Latulla into exile. The bombs skimmed over the ships and detonated among the dockside warehouses. Splinters and fiery debris rained down everywhere. Chunks of wreckage draped across the rigging over Haddad's head, and he joined a rush to clear the ship. Latulla was almost trampled in the stampede, and Haddad hid a smile as he swirled past her livid face. The ropes began to burn, and sections of the dock were covered in flame. Weapons stored in the warehouses shattered and released waves of flammable liquid. Haddad could hear the collapse of burning floors and the hiss as timbers dropped among the dock pilings and extinguished in the sea. The captured League soldier flattened against the side of a building as more people rushed past him. He could see Latulla running up the gangplank to fight the fire on the ship. Her hands moved, and the flames shr
ank back like a frightened pet.

  She waved for the crowds to return even as she calmed the fire. Now magic users from the colony were running up to the docks, and the destruction Haddad had cheered began to be controlled. Slowly the fires flickered out. The warriors began to chant Latulla's name, and she directed the final efforts of the impromptu fire brigades. The League had interrupted Latulla's speech, but she rallied the colony to her cause because of it.

  *****

  It was nearing dark when Latulla and the rest of the household straggled to their quarters. The fires destroyed one warehouse completely, though all ships were saved. Lord Urit sat within the house, and Latulla moved to confront him. Haddad stayed in the outer room and looked through the door.

  The curtains were drawn and the lights low as defensive measures against air attacks. Latulla appeared incensed that the League would dare attack the colony.

  "Where were the fire casters and magic users? Why were we left so exposed?" she demanded.

  Lord Urit answered her. The former swamp overseer was in charge of the colony slaves and had become an important figure.

  "The western expedition did not go as planned. We had to retreat," Urit confessed shamefacedly, and Latulla reined in her temper with visible difficulty.

  "A temporary state of affairs. We will rebuild and crush them like we have always done." She spoke confidently.

  Urit shook his head. "Their armies do not wait for the blow. Now they seek to fight." He looked up and seemed to stare through the roof. "Their airships range over the west looking for detachments to kill. Almost all fire barges are protecting the armies and our new holdings. In fact, their airships seek battle relentlessly with any barge they can find."

  "They may be using their blimps, but we can destroy their bases as we did before," Latulla said. "There will be more forces arriving from Keld regardless of what the fools on the council believe."

  "We can barely keep our forward bases intact while new classes of airships drop bombs on our home ground. We will have to recall forces and concentrate our warriors," Urit insisted.

  "I will hear from you later, Urit," Latulla commanded. "Leave me now, so I might rest."

  Urit said nothing but bowed and withdrew, his face stony at his dismissal. Haddad kept still as the major domo, Briach, bowed and entered. The chief slave appeared calm and content as he waited to hear Latulla.

  "What has happened here, Briach?" Latulla asked.

  "The first expeditions went well, and many slaves were taken for the glory of Keld. There are shiploads winding their way to cradle houses in the north. Cities fell, and the artificers control mines and refineries for the Heroes' Blood. Huge stores await only shipment back home to build you an army," Briach explained.

  Latulla smashed his hand with her cane. "This is home now. Keld would not have me, and now they will live with their decision. Suspend all shipments north until further notice. Start construction of factories and a cradle house. The midwives and female slaves are to report to me from now on."

  Briach whitened at the blow but remained still as Latulla stood and began to pace.

  "What happened to the second expedition?" Latulla questioned.

  Haddad saw Briach consider his words carefully. Latulla collaborated with the military commanders before leaving and would not brook even implied criticism from a slave, however favored he might be.

  "The attack, from all reports, went well, but the League machines proved more lethal than previously believed. Their weapons were heavier, and our war manikins could not overwhelm them. But the battle was still in our favor until the planeswalker appeared on the field and unleashed a great spell. He turned the ground of the ancestors against their descendants."

  "How many died under Teferi's hand?" demanded Latulla.

  "Almost none, but the warriors had powered the hollow warriors a long time, and many fell from exhaustion," Briach answered. "The leaders called for retreat."

  "So they were not defeated-they gave up!" Latulla said angrily. "At the heart of enemy war production they retired because they couldn't beat the League with the first blows." Latulla threw herself back into her chair and drummed her fingers on the side table.

  "How do the warriors feel about their loss?" Latulla spoke slowly as she considered her plans.

  "Many of them cannot accept that they did lose," Briach said. "The sailors have lost to the League before, but the army has not suffered a serious setback since it landed. Many of the warriors are angry, striking out at slaves and each other. The number of fights between warriors has soared despite the best efforts of the war leaders to curb dominance battles."

  Latulla nodded to herself in satisfaction. "Of course they're angry. They should be enraged. The leaders betrayed them by withdrawing from the field too soon. Had the army stayed, they would have conquered the enemy," she said intently. "We must act quickly to isolate those who would lead us to defeat."

  Briach nodded but with some confusion. "Mistress, I am sure that you know best, but I do not know how you can displace the war leaders," Briach stated.

  Latulla only threw her cane at his head for daring to question her decisions.

  "Of course I can't take direct control of the army, but there are always subordinates whose ambitions can be fired and directed to my benefit. Other voices will say the commands in battle, but the orders will be mine. Call my supporters to me when dawn comes."

  Latulla went to her bed, and Haddad crept away as well. The artificer had been expelled from Keld in disgrace. Awake for one day, she was already setting up a personal empire.

  Haddad shook his head in reluctant admiration and went to his room. There he dreamed of a kingdom of puppets with Latulla pulling the strings. He sank into a deeper sleep as he appeared in the dream-a marionette dancing to Latulla's commands.

  *****

  Haddad carried another set of invitations to captains of barge crews and commanders of small companies. Latulla had thrown parties and private dinners all week. She was still imperious and cold, but many of the lesser war leaders received assurances of support for their ambitions. Latulla cast her net wide, and Haddad hit every section of the camp. But he was not her only emissary, and he shuddered as Greel stepped from a tent ahead of him. The monster was smiling and laughing as he left a group of drunken comrades.

  "Haddad!" he called and walked over. The League technician wanted to run but could not. Haddad felt a cold sweat as he realized that Greel called him by name.

  "What are you holding, slave?" Greel asked. He smiled broadly at Haddad, and that alone signaled he was not a Keldon.

  "Invitations to another of Latulla's dinners, master." Perhaps if he was obsequious enough, Greel would be bored and go away.

  "Let me see those." Greel reached and took the envelopes from Haddad's fingers. He flipped through them quickly. Many of the passersby looked at Greel. A Keldon male appearing to read was unusual. Haddad usually read the message aloud or handed it to a literate slave when he found the addressee.

  "Many of these are my friends," Greel slurred. "I will deliver them if I see them." Greel appeared drunk, but Haddad knew it was an act. Failure to deliver the invitations would mean a severe beating for Haddad.

  "I would not have expected you to find friends so soon," Haddad said as he reached for the invitations. It was broad daylight, and Haddad was growing tired of fear. Greel gave back the invitations but still smiled.

  "I have many friends, old and new, in this land." He tapped the bronze armband concealed under Haddad's clothes. "You could be my friend since you bear this."

  Haddad could not stop from shying away. Greel's face lost its pleasant expression, twisting into a snarl. It almost seemed to glow, and for a moment Haddad thought Greel's true form would burst forth. The fiery light sprang not from inside the monster but from streams of fireballs rising into the sky. Haddad and Greel looked toward the heavens and saw the Keldon weapons converging on an apparently empty space. Then sheets of flame outlined a camouf
laged blimp and its defensive fields. Haddad wondered if more than color hid it as his eyes refused to lock on. Suddenly a rack of bombs rained down, and the blimp disappeared. The launchers shot at the falling weapons, and one exploded in a green disk of fire that enveloped the other bombs. The weapons did not fratricide but instead diverged wildly, corkscrewing through the air.

  Haddad was rooted to the spot as Greel gripped his arm tightly. The familiar's hand did not even tremor as Haddad tried to pull free. Explosions sounded throughout the camp, but Haddad saw only one. The flash was brilliant white, and the League technician was hurled to the ground as Greel keened in pain. Haddad's eyes cleared, and he saw that the bomb had hurled ropes of fire. The material clung to everything as it burned. Slaves near one building dumped water on a strand stuck to an exterior wall. The water just drained away, and the slaves tried desperately to scrape the fire off as the wood burned fiercely.

  Greel crouched in gasping agony. Haddad could see channels of burnt flesh across his chest and neck. The skin bubbled as Greel knelt, oblivious to the world. Haddad ran as magic users closed to extinguish the fires. In the sky, the blimp had vanished, though fire-streamers still shot into the air searching for the craft. After a few more seconds the fire barges stopped, the fires extinguished as the might of the Keldon mages turned to ending the fires.

  Greel rose to his feet as a group of slaves came to help him. His features were burned away, and bone showed through the charred meat. One of the slaves vomited at the sight. The monster's fists crushed skulls and caved in chests as he tore through the crowd around him. He ran toward the edge of the colony, pulling a screaming slave behind him like a child's rag doll. Haddad hoped that a mage would burn Greel down before he could feed, but he doubted the monster would be caught. Haddad hurried to deliver the last of the letters, hoping that he could escape soon.