Twixt Heaven And Hell

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by Tristan Gregory


  Arric burst from his chair and fixed the general with a glare.

  “Darius did not fight that battle alone! What about the garrison at Fist who fought to the last man to deny it to our Enemy? What about the scouts and raiding forces from Andreth who went to their aid even through territory that was quickly becoming choked with the Enemy? Enough about Darius, dammit!”

  From his seat two places away from Arric, Lazarus noted this outburst with his usual placidity.

  Arric sat again, trying to hide his embarrassment at losing his temper. “I want plans on the best way to withdraw Fourth Army – and save the men within Andreth. We will move beyond the range of the enemy’s new trick and plan for a brighter future.”

  Callos hurried the meeting along, wanting to get away from the sore subject. “All are agreed, however, as to the Enemy’s next objective. General Owen?”

  The elder man stepped forward again, a bit more hesitantly. “Yes. The obvious – the only – target after the Shambles is the utmost northern end of our border. Threeforts valley and Uldoss Pass.”

  “Not Uldoss!” protested a wizard from his stone seat. “The Enemy has never held it.”

  “Not since we’ve had a fort there, no,” The General allowed. “But we only built that fifteen years ago. It was a well-used route before that and was held by the enemy at times. It is possible they will have sorcerers who know it well enough to lead the spell there.”

  “Far too large an area to cover all at once, even in a token defense,” Arric pondered aloud. “Surely he couldn’t take Threeforts all at one go.”

  “I don’t think so either, but with what he’s shown us in the past I hesitate to underestimate him. I and several others have come up with an option – strengthen the garrisons as much as possible in each of the forts and every army camp. Now that Dar -” the general cleared his throat and changed what he was going to say – “Now that we know they are vulnerable and disorganized just after appearing through their spell, we should attempt to fall upon them at exactly that time.”

  There were arguments, and counter-arguments. Other plans were proposed, and nothing was actually decided except to start moving more soldiers into the valley. After an hour of discussion they adjourned for the evening, and every general and wizard filed out of the room – save one.

  Arric saw Lazarus hang back. He waited as well, until the rest of the men had departed, and waited for Lazarus to speak.

  He had not long to wait. Lazarus spoke with a force and conviction that Arric had not heard since his own youth, when Lazarus himself had been Council Leader.

  “Arric, this pointless feud with Darius must end.”

  It was certainly not what the Council Leader had expected. “Feud? There is no -”

  “Stop! Arric, be honest with yourself. The Council becomes more and more divided every day. Who is for you, who is for Darius. The officers have avoided taking sides, but will that last? It must end, Arric.”

  Arric nodded vigorously. “Indeed it must! But I can hardly do anything about a man who is so blind to reason and discipline, Lazarus. Even you have tried to talk sense into him.”

  Lazarus sighed. “Yes, Darius is stubborn. And proud. Even more so than yourself. He is not blind in any sense, though. You, on the other hand…” Another sigh. “Why, Arric, do you continue to deny Darius’s legitimate claims to success? The Gryphons have been invaluable in this war since he gathered them, everyone admits that now. Save you. He marched into the field and a fortnight later returned with exactly what we needed.”

  “It was mere chance that put him -” Lazarus cut him off, raising his voice again.

  “It cannot always be chance, Arric! This is hardly the first time he’s done such a thing. You must face the facts. Darius’s way works. The Gryphons are a phenomenal success, and everyone who was against it – you, I, most of Council – we were wrong.”

  Arric’s situation had him entirely flummoxed. He was not used to being cut off by anybody – save perhaps Darius – and here Lazarus was lecturing him like an acolyte.

  “For now, this division has caused little harm. Everyone treats it as a game – but it grows ever more serious. We cannot allow it, Arric. How long before a plan, a good, sound plan is ignored simply because it comes from Darius, or one of his supporters?”

  “That would never happen,” Arric protested weakly.

  “It already has happened, Arric, with the Gryphons. And it will happen again. As Council Leader, it is your duty to heal this schism before men die for it.”

  Up until then, Arric had considered the difficulties that had risen between himself and Darius as a personal matter. He saw now that it had become much more. It had become a rallying point for those with grievances to air, and those dissatisfied with the manner in which the council worked.

  Dropping his glance to the floor, Arric wordlessly gave in. A moment later, though, he was staring the man straight in the eye. “Very well, Lazarus. But how am I to ‘heal’ this? Darius has begun ignoring me entirely. He gathers wizards to help him to develop his counterspell and tells the Council nothing.”

  Lazarus, his old calm self again, smiled. Then chuckled. “Darius is not a very complicated man, Arric. I will tell you exactly how to begin. How you proceed is, of course, at your discretion. I believe you will do well as long as you remember your primary goal – to make the council work. Darius could, and should, be a valued member of it. Here is what you do...”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Despite the grisly tales of their run through the Shambles, there was no shortage of volunteers for the Gryphons. Darius stood watching as his sergeants and veterans tested the hopefuls on the dusty ground of the barracks yard.

  “How many yesterday?” Darius asked.

  Robert stood next to him, taking a short break from testing candidates himself. “Eight,” was his reply, meaning three new Gryphons from his work yesterday.

  “Is that all?”

  “We’re getting too popular. More and more men show up, but so many of them are young, inexperienced, or simply not skilled enough. It takes awhile to sort through all the chaff,” Robert explained bluntly. “We should set an age limit. I had to go through the motions with a boy of sixteen summers today, a new soldier. But he’d seen battle – or so he claims – and so he came when the call went out.”

  Darius nodded. “A good idea. Who is our youngest man?”

  “Before or after?”

  The wizard grimaced. “Before.”

  “We had a lad of eighteen, I think. Now, it’s all the old veterans. Youngest is probably Trevor, at twenty-three.”

  “Perhaps twenty would do, then. Most soldiers have served for four years by then. They’ll know more about their own abilities.”

  “Yes sir, that will do fine. I’d better get back to it, sir.”

  “Go on then, Robert. No more than four hundred.”

  Two-hundred was the limit set by a grudging Council four years prior, but he’d been quietly adding more and more to the total ever since.

  Darius took his leave soon after. He had the feeling that some of the soldiers were nervous with him standing there watching them ‘test’ for entrance into the Gryphons, and he did not want a good man denied because he distracted by having a wizard for a spectator, as most soldiers would be. It was an alienation he had worked hard to overcome with his own men, and he cursed the council all the more that it was necessary.

  Leaving the barracks, Darius took the main road that would bring him by Robert’s house. He needed to question Kray more about the transportation magic. Most of his talks with the sorcerer – he really should stop thinking of Kray as a sorcerer – had been entirely concerned with the ‘Firewalking’ spell, as the Enemy called it. Darius and his compatriots had nearly figured out the spell itself, and already had several interesting possibilities for interrupting it.

  Dust pluming in the wake of their passage, a gaggle of children dashed in front of him, making Darius take a quick step out of th
e way for fear of being trampled. Some of them had padded training swords, slim wooden constructions wrapped in soft leather. Playing at this ‘War’ game that Kaylie had mentioned, no doubt. It disturbed Darius somewhat, but these boys would learn the truth of the matter all too soon – he, like Balkan, saw no reason to spoil the fun while it lasted.

  The stampede, however, did not pass him by. One boy saw him and stopped in the middle of the street. The rest of the group followed suit, staring at the wizard. The ringleader looked at Darius, taking in his odd dress – for a wizard – and the blue-and-red badge he wore over his heart as proud leader of the Gryphons.

  “Wizard Darius!” piped the boy, who Darius imagined to be somewhere between the ages of six and twelve. He had no experience in guessing childrens' ages.

  A bit surprised at being recognized by one so young, he politely replied, “Yes?”

  “Do some magic for us!”

  The demand struck Darius as, well, childish. The little brat was no doubt some general’s get, and used to having his way. Darius was mildly surprised it had not been taught to him that wizards were not to be ordered around.

  Uncomfortable with all the eyes upon him – he adored Balkan’s little Kaylie, but other children made him feel awkward – Darius decided on a whim to oblige. Suddenly the wooden sword flew from the boy's grasp and leapt to Darius’s outstretched hand.

  “Magic?” he asked innocently. “What kind?”

  The collection of boys chattered and giggled with glee at the display, and Darius felt absurdly pleased at the reaction. Another child, larger and apparently older than the brat, stepped forward. “Play War with me, Wizard Darius!”

  He was immediately shoved back by his diminutive leader. “Fool! Wizards can’t use swords, they use magic!”

  It was the way in which he said it – as if wizards couldn’t use a sword perfectly well if they wished! – that raised Darius’s hackles and made him reply.

  “I’ll have you know I am an accomplished swordsman!” Darius said.

  In answer, the bigger lad put himself on guard, and all the others cleared off a ways to give them room.

  Wondering if what he’d started was entirely wise, Darius mimicked the on guard position. He did know how to use a sword. He also knew that in fair combat with a real soldier he would be cut to ribbons. But this was a young boy – surely he couldn’t be capable of all that much?

  Darius barely managed to block the first swing, and the boy was aggressive. However, after several moments of unflattering close-calls, Darius fell into the proper rhythm. All around them the crowd of young ones hooted and hollered as the largest of them ‘fought’ the wizard, though it was clear after those first few moments – which Darius hoped they would assume he was faking – that the wizard had the upper hand. Finally, he disarmed the boy and used magic to bring the other blade into his hand as well. Smiling – and breathing slightly harder – he passed it back.

  “You’re quite good,” he said, hoping it was true. “You’ll make a fine swordsman.” Darius was thankful that not Robert nor any Gryphon had been around to see the little duel. He handed the other practice blade off to another boy. “Run along now, boys. I have work to do.”

  They did so, and the older one even smiled and shouted “Thank you, Wizard Darius!”

  Before Darius had a chance to move on, though, he heard a voice from behind him. “Heart-warming, Darius, to see you get along with the little ones so well.”

  Turning, he was greeted by the sight of three of his fellow wizards.

  “Thank you, Callos,” he said with an exaggerated smile for Arric’s lackey. “Future soldiers, and all that. We can’t have them thinking we’re all stodgy old men.”

  Callos did not rise to the jibe. “Arric sent me,” he said, which almost made Darius snort at its obviousness. “He needs to speak with you.”

  Darius bowed. “I must regrettably decline. I have much to do.”

  A smug expression grew on Callos’s face. “Arric said, if that was to be your answer, than you are to be arrested and brought to him. By force if need be.”

  Darius’s eyebrows popped up in surprise as he studied the man’s face, and he saw that the two wizards with Callos were standing stiffly, yet almost trembling with anticipation – expecting an attack? They were serious! Darius was delighted – he’d never expected Arric to have the spine for this.

  “Well then... lead on!” he said jovially. Whatever waste of time lecture Arric wanted him for, he had earned it. Kray could wait a bit longer.

  “He is in the Council Chamber,” Callos said as he turned away. “You can find him yourself.”

  Standing perplexed in the middle of the street for the moment, Darius momentarily wondered if he should not ignore Arric anyways. Then again, if he had been pushed far enough to threaten force and mean it, perhaps the insufferable man had something new to say. Turning the opposite way up the next street than he had intended, he headed for the Crown.

  There did not seem to be any new emergency occurring. Everyone was acting normally. A thought struck Darius – had Arric found out about Kray? That would be unfortunate. Several times Darius had reconsidered keeping Kray's existence from the High Council, and had always decided that like everything else Arric would not handle the matter properly.

  Darius also feared the council may simply hand the man to an Angel to test his sincerity; an experience that was not likely to leave Kray in his right mind. Darius had no wish to see Kray dead or deranged.

  Having no other recourse, Darius was forced to accept his least favored tactic – he would wait and see what Arric had to say. At the top of the Crown tower the doors of the Council Chamber were already open, and Arric waited within.

  Arric spoke before Darius had a chance. “I see I did manage to gain your attention.”

  “Yes, Arric. What do you want?” Darius replied, not wishing to waste any more time than necessary.

  With a smile, Arric answered. “At some point tomorrow, I will call a full council session. I do not know exactly the time, because that largely depends upon you.”

  “Me?”

  “Yes. You will make a list of ten names, wizards who you consider skilled and experienced enough to lead a unit like the Gryphons.”

  Darius’s face fell. Was Arric trying to make him pick his own replacement? Outrageous! Before he had a chance to protest, the Council Leader continued.

  “From this list of ten, the High Council will pick five.”

  Arric waited a moment as Darius looked at him suspiciously. “What are you saying, Arric?” he said cautiously.

  “I’m saying, Darius,” Arric began, imitating the gruff way Darius pronounced his name, “That the Council will shortly form five additional commands to be modeled upon your Gryphons. You will train their leaders – your soldiers will train their men. Furthermore, you and I will work together to decide the best and most efficient manner in which these units will be deployed.”

  Darius remained silent, unable to believe his own ears. Arric took a breath and forced the next words out quickly enough to betray his unease with them. “I am saying, Darius, that I was wrong. You and your Gryphons have proved their worth time and time again, and I have been remiss in failing to recognize that,” Arric finished in relief.

  Twice Darius opened his mouth without actually speaking.

  “Thank you, Arric,” he finally managed.

  “I’d hoped that in return, you might let the Council in on a bit more of what you do,” Arric said. “And I warn you that I do not intend to let the newly formed units enjoy the autonomy that you have until this point.”

  “I would not say I enjoyed it, Arric.” Darius said. “Given the lengths I had to go to obtain it.”

  The familiar combativeness had returned to Darius's tone, and a smile tugged at the corner of Arric's mouth.

  Darius considered his old rival for a moment. “That must have been very hard.”

  “I imagine it would have been the same for
you,” Arric said as his face mirrored Darius’s. The two men shared a moment of, if not friendship, at least understanding. “As I said, I will call the council when you have the list complete.”

  “I will have it to you by sundown.”

  “Splendid. That is all, thank you.”

  Such an abrupt end to so momentous a conversation struck Darius as odd, but then again, it was better to part while tacit truce between them was strong. Who knew how long it had taken Arric to come up with the courage to admit his error?

  He would have that list by sundown, but right now he needed to see Kray. In the three days since bringing him to Bastion, the sorcerer had already been enormously helpful with the counterspell. The revelations he provided had been endlessly useful.

  Chapter Twenty

  Kray’s daily attendants now included three wizards at all times. There were a total of five men outside of Darius, Balkan, and Robert who knew of the sorcerer’s existence. They stayed with him long hours, and Darius had lifted the restriction against interrogation, although he was the only one allowed to conduct it as such. The others merely conversed with him during their time together. In the meantime, Kray ate and slept and asked his own questions about Bastion.

  When Darius entered the dwelling that night, two of the three guards rushed to meet him at the door, talking over each other. Darius eventually shushed one, the junior of the two, and let the other speak.

  “Kray has told us something very important, Darius. We would have fetched you, but you said there were never to be less than three of us here,” said Jotan, a solemn looking man of dark complexion. He took a deep breath, and then it all came out in a rush. “There may be a spy in Bastion, Darius. A wizard, in fact.”

  The other one, an eager young man named Alain, spoke up. “Kray didn’t say exactly that, but a number of other things have led us to believe it. First, he – “

  Darius cut him off. “Save it, I should hear it from Kray directly.” He brushed past the pair and entered the common room of the house. Kray was there with the other wizard.

 

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