Invasion

by B. N. Crandell

  He didn’t flinch.

  “While I have no doubt that you could destroy me, I have full confidence that if you did so you would never find that which I am offering. However, I fear you may have seriously underestimated my knowledge of both you and your current quest. I think you’ll find that we can come to a mutually beneficial agreement.”

  “You are a traitor to your country! The king will hear of this and you’ll be judged accordingly,” shouted Master Pilk.

  Either these two wizards were excellent performers or they really did detest one another. Sylestra figured that it wouldn’t hurt to hear this wizard out. If she didn’t like what she heard then she may have acquired a very strong sacrifice at the least.

  “Very well, I will listen to you, but not here in front of the present company.” She turned her attention to General Jak’ho. “General, if you would be so kind as to lead us to my quarters, which I assume you have ready.”

  “Of course, Supreme Mistress.” The General turned on his heel and started marching off. Rotager turned to her with upraised eyebrows so she gestured for him to follow the abrupt orc.

  General Jak’ho led them to a finished building near the centre of the fort. It contained very basic furnishings but that would soon change as the General had time to arrange things. She walked around behind the desk and took a seat, glad to get off her feet.

  “By all means take a seat and tell me how beneficial you can be to me.” She gestured to the two seats positioned in front of her desk.

  “Mutually beneficial,” corrected Rotager as he leaned his staff up against the wall and took a seat.

  “Yes, well we shall see about that. I could be beneficial to you simply by letting you live. So what is it that you want?”

  “For centuries the Academy of Mystics has served the kingdom of Lertia, helping to build, shape, expand and in recent times, defend the kingdom. For all that we have done, we get very little gratitude and, in fact, restrictions placed upon us. Those without magic are often very sceptical of those with it and afraid that if we were given too much freedom we would take over or even destroy the kingdom. Our studies are often hampered by all the rules and regulations placed upon us which I believe to be not only holding back the Academy, but also the kingdom.” He threw his arms around for emphasis.

  Sylestra wondered if this wizard could talk if his hands were bound. “I am very busy Grand Master Rotager — perhaps if you could get to the point. Do you want to join my tribe and have freedom to study what you will?” She rested her hands on the desk and leant in.

  “No. I feel that within any culture we will always have restrictions placed upon us in one form or another. What I am proposing is the rise of a new kingdom — one that is led by the Academy of Mystics.” He rested back in his chair and folded his hands on his lap.

  “And where would this kingdom be set up, and who would be the ruler, you?” She knew the answer to her last question but remained curious as to how he would answer it.

  “This kingdom would be set up where Lertia now stands and yes, I would be its ruler. With my knowledge and experience I would be the most logical choice.” He straightened his back and lifted his chin.

  Could a man be any more arrogant?

  “So you want me to help you wipe out an entire kingdom and then withdraw so as to allow you to take control of all that I have conquered, and all you are offering me in return is a few dusty old books? Are you out of your mind, wizard?” Her blood boiled.

  “I offer you more than just the books. I offer you my services and the services of over one hundred other wizards. With our help you will achieve your goals a lot faster. You cannot conquer and rule all three worlds. That, I believe, is out of even your lofty grasp.” He held his arm out toward her with his palm facing up as he smirked.

  “And what do you know of my goals?” She gritted her teeth.

  Rotager chuckled. “I believe they are not too dissimilar to my own — the ongoing quest for more power. You are seeking the homeworld of Aleri because, like me, you know that a large remnant of your goddess Nefari still resides there. If you can bring your goddess together again and make her whole, your power will grow significantly. Your biggest problem, I believe, is that Nefari cannot freely travel through magical gates while the human, dwarf and orc gods can. Already the power of all magic users on Ka’ton has grown since the Gate was opened linking our worlds. Many have noticed this but very few understand why.”

  “You are wiser than I gave you credit for, Grand Master Wizard. Perhaps we can come to an understanding although I’m reluctant to put a man on the throne of a foreign kingdom that I know little about — perhaps you could operate as a vassal state?”

  “I would still be subservient to you and therefore restricted.” He jumped forward in his chair and raised his voice.

  “You would operate independently without my interference and would simply need to be available should I have need of you. Betray me or make war against me and you would be wiped out. A very fair and reasonable arrangement.” She kept her tone pleasant despite the anger welling up inside her.

  “And you would give me all the land of Lertia?” He once again leaned back in his chair and raised an eyebrow.

  Sylestra laughed, “Good god no. That is far more than you need or deserve — perhaps a quarter of it.”

  “A quarter of my choice then?”

  “So be it. But you have to prove yourself worthy until such time as Lertia has been conquered.”

  “You will not regret this.”

  “I had better not, or I’m sure you will.” She put as much menace into her voice as she could. “Now, deliver the books in your possession to O’tukka and Pilk, arrange for one of your wizards to go and collect more, send the rest of your group to General Jak’ho to get settled and then return to me. You can accompany me on a little journey.”

  “Yes, my lady.”

  “And from now on you are to use my title when addressing me.”

  “Yes, Supreme Mistress.” Rotager stood, bowed his head and walked out the door.

  Sylestra remained sitting behind her desk for a little while and cast a minor healing spell on her wound which relieved some of the pain. Once she had composed herself she got up and went off in search of General Jak’ho. She found him a short distance away, tirelessly shouting out orders.

  “Rotager will be returning shortly with his group of wizards. Get them settled in and working and then bring Rotager to me. I want you and him to accompany me on a short journey.”

  “Of course, Supreme Mistress. Where are we going?”

  “We are going to visit Fort Lowmount.”

  Chapter 21

  Visiting Fort Lowmount

  Rotager set up another magical gate that exited on a faraway hill.

  “We should Fort Lowmount from the top of that hill,” said Grand Master Rotager. “It’s been a long time since I visited the fort but I know it’s close.”

  Sylestra entered the gate and caught sight of Fort Lowmount as she exited. It appeared as formidable as O’tukka had described it. From this distance she made out the little orcs that were scattered along the wall like ants.

  Beyond that massive outer wall would stand a lesser inner wall. O’tukka had described with great delight how the humans had killed many of the smaller orcs in between those walls — an explosion that had them hastily retreating. She figured she stood on the very hill that O’tukka had used for his vantage point.

  “Get me down to that road about five hundred paces from the wall,” she commanded Rotager.

  “Remember, Supreme Mistress, these orcs will attack you before asking any questions — they hate humans above all else.”

  “That is why I have you here to shield me. You can cast a shielding spell, I presume?”

  “I can, Supreme Mistress, but it will only hold up for so long.”

  “I understand. I will get my point across quickly I assure you. Now create the gate and cast your shielding spell on us all.”<
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  Grand Master Rotager cast a spell and as he pointed to the road a swirling gate formed, followed soon after by one near them.

  He spoke another cantrip and the familiar flow of magic traced through her body. She placed an incredible amount of trust in this wizard as he could easily be casting a more sinister spell, but she sensed sincere hatred from this man of the current system. Knowing magic as she did, she identified the spell’s signature and could instantly tell that it was as he had stated — an Orb of Protection.

  The expressions on the orcs’ faces as she stepped from the gate and walked toward the walls of the fort was priceless. She had to stop herself from laughing. She remembered this breed of orc from Aleri and their almost comical nature. They were created and bred as slaves for the large orcs. What they lacked in intelligence they made up for in breeding potential. Their numbers had to be forcibly controlled on Aleri. She had sure done her part by sacrificing large numbers of them but they scarcely produced the power of a wildebeest. With nothing to control their breeding on Ka’ton it was no wonder the humans were always harassed by them.

  An arrow shot toward her but it missed by a mile. She didn’t even break stride as she walked straight for the gates. More arrows were released as a horn sounded but very few hit her shielding.

  “I wish to speak with the Blood Council,” she shouted coming to a halt ten strides away from the gates. “I mean you no harm so stop firing.”

  An orc wearing a blood-red robe near the centre of the wall held up his arms.

  The arrows stopped.

  “I am Chief Fa’rasha, human. You are either very brave or very stupid to approach our walls so few in number and I see you have an orc traitor with you.”

  “He is no traitor. He is my number one general and has been among my tribe since birth. We come from a distant world and I am the leader of the Ta’zu tribe which is a mixed tribe of humans, orc and half-orc.” Sylestra took a couple of small steps toward the fort as she spoke.

  “Half-orc?” Chief Fa’rasha laughed a mocking laugh. “You mean to tell me that orcs and humans breed together among your tribe? That is disgusting. How does Gr’guck even allow such a thing?”

  “Gr’guck has no power or influence with our tribe. The Ta’zu serve a greater power, the goddess Nefari, and it is our ability of being able to work together despite racial differences that makes us strong as a tribe.” Sylestra realised that it was no longer true about Gr’guck having no power among her tribe since she had united the Black Skull tribe with her own but she didn’t want to discuss this so openly.

  “Nefari? I have never heard of such a goddess even among the many that the humans serve. She must not be all that prominent.” The orc folded his arms and straightened his back.

  “She is very prominent on my world and her power here is growing.” Also not a truth, but she couldn’t allow this orc to know she had no magical power on this world. Sylestra hoped to make this statement true in the coming days anyway.

  “And what is your relationship with the Black Skull tribe?”

  “If I could meet with your Blood Council in private I would tell you all you need to know. Shouting out such things is not wise.”

  “You have nothing to offer us that we would be interested in. We are managing quite well. This fort used to belong to humans, did you know? And now it belongs to us. It will not be the last we take from the humans.”

  “Your attempt to take their city of Arthea failed miserably. With my help, the city would fall within days. Make an enemy of me and your fort will fall within days. The choice is yours.” Her patience ran thin.

  “We learnt much from that attack. Their numbers are much reduced while our numbers continue to grow by the day. Our next attempt will have a far different result.” Fa’rasha leant his hands on the merlon and glared down at her from the top of the wall.

  “So you will not meet with me?”

  “No. We will not. Past dealings with orcs from your world have made us wary of any future dealings. I will give you a count of ten though to leave and never return before I give the order to kill you.”

  “You make a grave mistake.”

  “Ten,” shouted Chief Fa’rasha.

  Sylestra turned to Grand Master Rotager. “Get me on top of that wall.”

  “Nine.”

  “Excuse me, Supreme Mistress, but isn’t that suicide? Your shield will not hold out for long,” replied Rotager.

  “Eight.”

  “Then I’ll be sure not to get hit, just do it.”

  “Seven.”

  Grand Master Rotager formed a gate in front of her and pointed to the top of the wall.

  “Si—arrgh.”

  Sylestra watched the life flee from his eyes as she retracted her scimitar from his belly. It took the surrounding orcs a moment to react, which was a moment too long against an opponent like her. Four orcs were dead before any made a move against her.

  General Jak’ho charged out of the gate with his mighty axe leading the way. He hit an orc with so much force that he split him in two, spraying blood over all nearby. This served to enhance the General’s blood rage and his backswing felled another two orcs who were not quick enough to get out of his way.

  Sylestra was well accustomed to her General’s fierce fighting style and not distracted in the least, while the orcs in close proximity were. She slashed and jabbed, killing an orc with each stroke. All of a sudden the orcs within ten paces of her went flying. She glanced behind her to where Grand Master Rotager stood with his staff firmly planted against the top of the wall, gripping it with both his hands. A crack showed where his staff had made contact. Sylestra sought to take advantage of this situation.

  “Stop,” she yelled at the top of her lungs. “It doesn’t need to end this way. Join with me and I’ll provide you with more than you have ever dreamed of.”

  An orc larger than the rest, but still well short of the average height of orcs from her world, stood out from amongst the throng. He stepped over the fallen corpses and approached her. He was bald while his face was almost entirely covered with thick, brown hair. He wore leather amour with a blood-red sash hanging diagonally across his chest. A sword hung by his side which seemed to be a rare weapon among these orcs as most wielded axes, spears or bows.

  “I am Chief Narva” — he looked at the fallen corpse of his fellow chief and back up at her — “now the leading chief of the Blood Council it would seem. You are outnumbered here and although you are obviously powerful, you would eventually be destroyed and yet you attack us so.”

  “I wish to unite your tribes with my own but this chief” — she kicked the body of Chief Fa’rasha — “would not even grant me an audience.”

  “Perhaps he was right to do so after the aggression you have shown toward us.”

  “I will speak to the Blood Council or kill every one of its members along with all who get in my way of doing so.”

  “Just the three of you? I doubt that very much.” He turned around and walked away.

  “I will enjoy killing you, Chief Narva.”

  “Kill them!” Chief Narva darted into the orc masses and became lost from sight. Archers and spearmen sealed his escape route.

  “It is time to go.” Sylestra turned and followed Rotager through the gate with General Jak’ho close behind.

  When they arrived at the base of the wall, Rotager dispelled the magic gate and created another. The three of them rushed through it just as a volley of arrows streamed toward them.

  “As you can see they are not as reasonable as the orcs you may be used to,” said Rotager as they emerged from the gate and into her office at Fort Dega.

  “They are a slave race and I have had many dealings with them in the past. I expected their intelligence to have grown somewhat, but it seems as though it hasn’t.” Sylestra looked around the room. “This is the first and last time you create a gate leading to any of my personal rooms do you hear? If you disobey this order my judgement will be swift.”r />
  “I understand, Supreme Mistress. I sought to get us back here as quick as possible and this room was the easiest for me to remember.”

  “You are dismissed,” she said to Rotager.

  Rotager bowed his head, turned and walk toward the door. When he reached the door, she stopped him.

  “Grand Master Rotager, you performed well today. Keep that up and I will be very pleased.”

  “Thank you, Supreme Mistress.” He once again bowed his head and turned and walked out the door.

  “You trust him?” asked General Jak’ho.

  “He had a chance to betray me today and leave me stranded on that wall without protection, so yes I trust him.” Sylestra walked over and sat behind her desk. The adrenaline from the fight had dissipated and the pain in her wound returned.

  “Are you okay, Supreme Mistress?” General Jak’ho took up a seat opposite her.

  “There has been some upheaval at home. The slaves have revolted and managed to escape. I was wounded by one of them, but I will be fine.”

  “You have sent an army after these slaves?”

  “A large group of the City Guard pursued them but were all killed with the exception of one. I can spare no more warriors to go after them. It matters little as they are heading this way anyway. We can deal with them in good time.”

  “I will kill this man myself that injured you.” General Jak’ho thumped his chest.

  “I fear that if you fought him one on one it would be you killed.” General Jak’ho narrowed his eyes and clenched his jaw so she expanded, “It is Gerard. I have fought you both and while you are an exceptional warrior, this man is your better.”

  “In a fair fight perhaps.” General Jak’ho’s mouth curled up into an evil smile.

  “Perhaps, but for now I want you to ready the army and march for Fort Lowmount. Take our new group of wizards along with you. Leave a thousand behind to continue work here.”

  “Are we to attack?”

  “No. This is purely a show of force. Set up camp out of bowshot range until I arrive.”

  “It will be done, Supreme Mistress.”