Resist

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Resist Page 35

by Derek Belfield


  Slate was somewhat taken aback by the intentness of her gaze. He felt like she was studying him for every scrap of information that might give her the upper-hand. He noticed that she hadn’t used titled or honorifics. He wasn’t displeased by her frankness; he appreciated it. She had a serious, military air about her that spoke to her professionalism.

  “That is correct,” he replied.

  Mella nodded simply continued her brief. She seemed to have added the small piece of information as easily as cataloging a book for the library. “I expect that the enemy forces will arrive in the mid-afternoon or the evening tomorrow.”

  “So soon?” Sumnu rumbled, “I thought we had a few more days yet.”

  “No,” the spymaster replied while looking at the First Raider’s hulking form, “it seems that they’ve dramatically increased their pace since Shale flew over them the previous day. The commanders are clearly on their way.”

  Sumnu’s face became grim, and he crossed his four arms over each other. “That isn’t much time. Do you know who their commanders are?”

  “Yes,” Mella said succinctly, “the army is led by two Vallyr Generals. One is General Bludtyr, and the other is General Grievum. They are typically assigned to the interior with peacekeeping forces just outside the capital city of Soulreach. The Patriarch of the Collective trusts them to lead his army, the Fist.”

  Slate remained quiet and took in the information. He was surprised at the knowledge Mella possessed.

  “How did you come by this information?” He wondered.

  “We had Circle agents in Soulreach when the Generals were given their orders. However, since then, we haven’t been able to collect any more intelligence. It seems that on their way to Bastion, the Generals were snapping up regular people and pressing them into service, either as militia or soul-forged monsters.”

  Slate nodded at the explanation. He had seen the parties that the Vallyr had sent out from Lynia’s memories. He needed to investigate Shale’s memory for a better sense of the situation. Lynia was an honest, trustworthy follower, but she didn’t have the warrior’s instinct that Shale possessed. Some things she didn’t think to notice, or ignored completely, and it affected the way her memories were recorded. In contrast, Shale missed very little.

  “Alright, so we have an opportunity here.” He looked up and projected his memory of the conflict with Mordryn and the negotiation with the ambassador in Koral to the rest of them. “The Empire tried to betray us, and our plans were disrupted with Koral. Instead of the alliance, we were seeking, we received a chaotic eastern flank. It’s not quite the win we were looking for, but it will at least keep either faction from approaching on two fronts.”

  Slate crossed his arms and cradled his chin with one hand. “What do we do next?”

  Mella looked around at the other Firsts before responding. “We are aware that Mors is planing a counterattack on the Empire in the near future.”

  Matek glanced at her, just as surprised as everyone else. “How do you know that?” He asked her.

  Mella tucked her hair back behind her ears; it had fallen into her face as she manipulated the map to focus on the various forts on the border between the Collective and the Empire. “Our sources in the border forts have seen a small drawdown in forces in each fort. Additionally, some of our merchant caravans have reports abandoned or destroyed hamlets on their route between Soulreach and the border. We can expect that Mors is gathering a force from the border and from the interior to smash into the Empire forces threatening Koral.”

  “Why Koral?” Slate asked.

  “Koral is more important than you realize,” Mella replied. “It’s a logistical hub for the Collective. They need to restore order to it, or the Empire will use it to launch attacks against the rest of the forts. In reality, if the Empire wanted to, they could bypass the border and make their way into the corridor created by its fall. Mors can’t let that happen. He needs to marshall his generals—many of which are high lords from adversarial families—and unite them to fend off the Empire.”

  Slate studied the map closely until Sumnu’s gruff voice interrupted. “It seems to me that we have an opportunity.” The Scourge King looked up and waited for the prior chieftain to continue.

  “As long as we can defeat the army on our doorstep, we’ll have a clear path to the capital. We might be able to take the city before the end of winter. While Mors wages his campaign on the border, we could be picking up the territory behind him.”

  “We don’t have the forces to do that,” Matek said idly. “We couldn’t even hold Koral, what makes you think we could take Soulreach, a city the same approximate size as Koral.”

  There was a polite cough as Fidem moved closer to the group and shouldered Matek and Mella aside. “I think that I have a solution to our manpower problem.”

  Slate raised his eyebrow at that. Fidem had never been a solution to a problem. It would be a novel change if he were to be one now. He gestured for the First Enticer to continue, and the man began to manipulate the map before it focused on Koral.

  “We know that Koral is a wreck right now, and it’s about to become worse as Mors and the Empire battle over its fate. There are going to be a horde of dispossessed that will run from the city and toward safety.”

  Slate thought he could see where the priest was going.

  “Do you think that your Enticers did a well enough job while they were in Koral?” He asked.

  “Yes, absolutely, but even if they didn’t, I think I have a solution for that as well,” he asserted serenely. His face was a careful mask that made the Scourge King wonder at whatever other plans the priest had concocted.

  “Go on,” he said slowly.

  “The Queen has already asked Lynia and I if we could accelerate the growth of the wyverns. I think it can be done as long as we have access to enough biomass and experience. If we send wyverns out with Enticers on their backs to Koral, we can convert the rabble fleeing from Koral into pilgrims on their way to Bastion.”

  Slate stayed quiet for a moment, considering the plan before glancing up at Lynia. “Do you think it can be done?” He trusted her far more than he did Fidem.

  Lynia nodded, “I believe so. It will be similar to the magic we performed on Sumnu. Just like then, we’re going to need a significant source of biomass.”

  Bastion interrupted the gathering. “Ahem, if I might suggest my Lord, we have a significant source of biomass on our doorstep. I could use some of that biomass and experience to build the rookery that you wanted to be created in the inner city. Right now, I could build something simple, but nothing as grand as the Arcanum or the Crystal Cathedral—” A wracking cough interrupted his suggestion, and he didn’t cover his mouth. The individuals next to him flinched and tried to withdraw from his presence even though his spit was virtual and couldn’t touch them. Once he finished, he continued. “You’ll want a high-level building so that we can create, house, and maintain more of the creatures. They’ll be a significant boon to the city.”

  “I was under the impression that the Lurkers would be trained to use the wyverns, not the Enticers,” Mella stated flatly. She didn’t like to be surprised, and she shot daggers at Fidem, a look that he summarily ignored.

  Slate uncrossed his arms and placed both hands on the stone column in front of him. He drummed his fingers against the cool surface as he considered what he should do. “Would there be enough to do both?”

  “Probably not, my Lord.” Bastion answered him.

  “Actually,” Matek interrupted, “we don’t have to wait for the enemy to come to us. We can launch an attack tonight for the sole purpose of gathering up enough of the wyverns to get the Lurkers airborne. That would increase our chances in the upcoming battle. Lurkers aren’t very effective by themselves and in a straight-up fight. However, putting them on the backs of a wyvern will make them more lethal. Once that’s done, we can gather more biomass and experience during the battle and then get the Enticers in the air as well.�
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  “How many people can we expect from Koral?” Slate looked to Fidem.

  The First Enticer shrugged and held out his hands palm up. “Likely, more than we can fully support. Koral is huge compared to Bastion. However, if we can convert them to Guardians and our current Guardians into members of the Scourge, we’ll see our forces swell considerably. We’ll have enough biomass and experience to accomplish the upgrades since we’ll be using the Collective army as fuel.”

  Slate sighed as he looked at the map, his mind playing out the various scenarios. Everything hinged on defeating the Collective Army. It wasn’t going to be easy; they far outnumbered his forces. The only thing they had in their favor was more powerful troops and fortifications. To Slate’s knowledge, the Collective had never created a flying creature. If Slate could gain an airborne cavalry of sorts, then the Scourge would become infinitely more capable. Once he hooked each of them up to a communication bead with Bastion and Mella, his information network would increase exponentially as well. Slate wasn’t sure how Mella collected the information for the Scourge, but having flying scouts and intelligence officers would go a long way to outmaneuvering the much stronger opponents that he was facing. He couldn’t win through brute force, but he could pit the Collective and the Empire against one another until he gained enough breathing space to fortify his position. The Empire had already seemed to loathe to commit its forces to the conflict with the Collective. Slate hoped he could capitalize on that mistake. His thoughts crystallized into the decision he knew he had to make.

  “Alright, we’re going to do as you suggested. We’re going to attack the Collective tonight. Our focus is speed and maximum damage. We need to collect corpses, and get the biomass back to the city. Lurkers will be the first in the air because we need something that will give us a tactical advantage.” He looked over at Fidem, “—and after that, we’ll get the Enticers in the air. You’re both right. We need to be reducing our enemy and building our forces at the same time. Even when the Collective army is defeated, our work is far from over.”

  He used his gaze to meet every one of his subordinate’s faces. “Let your people know, the Scourge will dine on Collective blood tonight.”

  CHAPTER 30: THE NIGHTTIME SCOURGE

  SLATE AND SHALE were sitting on the roof of the palace in companionable silence. The city was quiet as if it were holding its breath in anticipation—or maybe it was fear—of the coming battle. At least, that’s how it felt to Slate. It was more likely that the average citizen worried about the battle in a removed sort of sense. The walls were high, and the Scourge was strong. There was no reason to believe that they wouldn’t be victorious. Slate had already given the order to enforce a curfew and to close the gates, but there hadn’t been an exodus of Bastion’s citizens in the first place. Slate wondered for the hundredth time if their transformation was the cause of the strange behavior.

  The roof of the palace was starting to become one of the King’s favorite places. It was quiet, the air tasted fresher, and he could surveil the rest of his domain. With Shale leaning against him, he could pretend that he was merely a young man passing the time with a lover and not the Scourge King with his Queen. He didn’t want that life, he knew it would never be enough for him, but sometimes he did wonder what it was like to be healthy. I’ve had too much time to think, he thought wryly.

  There were better things to worry about, like the status of his army. The rest of their forces had already advanced toward the invading army. They were already outside of the range of the Scourgemind, but they kept in communication through Bastion. The plan had been to stagger their assault. The two monarchs could transform and outpace them easily, and Lurkers had the entire path scouted in advance, and so they weren’t concerned about being outflanked and ambushed. It made sense to reveal themselves at the last possible moment for the most significant effect. Slate planned on going there hot—meaning he would activate his Aspect of Cleansing Fire while in his dragon form—so he would be seen relatively easy from a distance. That was what they wanted; the dragons were going to be that last thing the Collective saw before they died. It was their job to cause the most destruction while the ground forces absconded with the corpses. The Collective army had created a chevron of screening units ahead of their full-sized force. It was this collection of enemies that Slate sought to destroy. After that, many of the Lurkers would remain behind to search for opportunities to kill and slow the adversary. Slate didn’t have much hope for those efforts. Much of the Collective’s army was made up of soul-forged creatures, and they had the unfortunate ability to see through their camouflage.

  This conflict was going to be different from his usual fights. This time, Fidem and Lynia had worked together in the Arcanum to cast a spell on the departing Scourge. It was ingenious—at least Slate thought so—Fidem seemed displeased that it wasn’t more powerful. Usually, it was only Slate that could transfer experience to the city. Biomass was typically required to be transported the old-fashioned way. However, this time all members of the Scourge would be able to transfer any experience they gained and biomass they acquired to the city. It was accomplished by using Bastion as a conduit for the unique resources that Lucidus provided. The effect wouldn’t last long, there was a definite timer on the night’s operation, but the two couldn’t say with certainty what that timeline looked like. It could last a few hours, or it could last until morning. The lack of specifics irritated Slate, but uncharacteristically, Bastion seemed pleased with the result. He was even happier when Fidem declared that he was going to find a way to make the effect permanent. Slate was concerned that the First Enticer was using it as a way to build rapport with the city’s avatar, and he noted the exchange in his mind to study at a less exciting time.

  Regardless, Bastion was standing by to receive the resources and apply them to the city. His goal was first to build a rookery and then shuttle the eggs and baby wyverns into the building. Kegan had taken to the task with predictable enthusiasm. Bastion always sounded like a fond grandfather when he spoke about the newly titled Beastmaster. The title wasn’t official by any means—Kegan was one Guardian among many—but it was an extra level of respect that Slate afforded the man. He had talents that Slate was keen on cultivating, especially if the ingenuity of the man was going to produce more creatures like the wyverns.

  “How much longer?” He asked the night air.

  “Soon, my King,” Bastion replied. “I expect in just a couple more minutes you and the Queen should be able to launch.”

  Slate felt the pre-battle energy suffuse his body. He was almost giddy with expectation. “Have you alerted the city guard?”

  “Yes, my King,” Bastion seemed strained as if he were answering an obvious question. Maybe he is, Slate thought. It didn’t matter. The mind when to strange places on the eve of battle. Every person was different. Some people prayed, some people remembered their loved ones, while others played the struggle over and over in their mind, visualizing the violence to come. Slate fell into the last category. He had asked Bastion the question because there was a slim but possible chance that the Collective could bypass the Scourge and attack the city directly. It wasn’t likely, but Slate lived in the opportunity found between unlikely and impossible. He couldn’t expect his adversaries to be any less capable.

  He looked over at his Queen. Are you ready?

  She grinned widely, and Slate saw the savage intent in her gaze. Of course. There were no external indicators to imply that they were anything but elves, but Slate swore he could see the dragon just behind the exterior. He smoothly got to his feet and helped her up without saying anything. There wasn’t anything that needed to be said. Once they were in the air, they would become one in the Scourgemind. They would become one soul in two bodies. It was a more profound connection than any he had shared in his previous life.

  He turned to face the city, and his mate mirrored his movements. He felt the Scourgemind settle around them like a comfortable current. Simultane
ously, they leaped off the roof. When their feet left the roof, they transformed into their draconic forms and activated their Aspects. They’re bodies lit up like fiery comets as they rocketed in the sky. They quickly left the city of Bastion behind, and they chased their troops that were further ahead.

  When they grew close enough for them to feel their troops through the Scourgemind, Slate felt his awareness expand until he felt like a piece of him was riding behind the eyes of every one of his Scourge. In return, they felt his implacable will and determination to kill the Collective troops. They were bolstered by the aura and a type of synergy developed in the forces. Lurkers, Raiders, Enticers, and Mystics all felt like they were part of something larger than themselves. They retained their consciousness, but it was expanded and bolstered by the connection to everyone. Without having to look, they knew where the person to their left and right were. They could feel when they were gathering mana, engaging their auras, or activating their camouflage.

  To Slate’s enhanced vision, the Scourge lit up like bonfires in the night. Just ahead of the troops, he could see the sinister violet mana signature that identified the Vallyr and their slaves. There weren’t many in the vanguard. The Collective forces were composed of the various mortal races that had been conscripted into the army. They had a hodgepodge of ill-fitting equipment and poorly maintained weaponry. Many of them had been equipped with nothing more than a wooden spear or an iron pitchfork. They were still deadly weapons, a spear was the weapon of choice for a battlefield, but the troops were untrained and unprofessional.

 

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